


Keep My Eyes Open

by Kyoharu_Alexeis



Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies), X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men: First Class (2011)-Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Still Have Powers, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Erik Logic Is The Best Logic, Erik has Issues, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Poor Charles, Unethical Experimentation, i do terrible things to Charles and Erik, prompt originally by @akasanta on tumblr, they suffer but hey it was worth it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-07
Updated: 2020-03-30
Packaged: 2020-08-11 10:01:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 35,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20151802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kyoharu_Alexeis/pseuds/Kyoharu_Alexeis
Summary: Erik had to be the only one. He had to have been, and there could never be another. Nothing and no one, that was the end. He was an anomaly, something that was never really supposed to exist. And then, of course, came the telepath.There would be an infinite regress, one event leading back into another. And it would all lead to one moment: Erik watched the other boy in the library, and all potential for change would begin.***"Can't you run away?""Where am I gonna go?"





	1. August-October

Erik was hiding. His fists were clenched tightly at his sides, and it took nearly all his will power to not use his powers. He was carefully hidden in plain sight, in between two aisles in a somewhat empty library. From where he stood, he had a relatively good view of a boy.

The boy was young like him, almost an adult but not quite. He had a fringe of dark hair and had a sort of casual beauty about him. It was not that that made Erik stare. The boy was sitting at a table, reading a book. Erik craned his neck to see the title, sighing softly when he read the words between the boys fingers. He couldn’t quite make it out. 

The boy glanced back, perhaps feeling the eyes of another person on him. He looked directly at Erik, and smirked slightly. He turned away, and tugged on the sleeves of his jacket. Erik tilted his head and then looked at the boy again. He was watching him for a reason. 

There was a certain feeling of familiarity between them. He felt like they had much in common, even if they had never spoken before. Erik didn’t know how long that they sat there, one reading and the other crouched behind the shelves. He sighed and then stood up, his back cracking loudly. The noise made him cringe, and he hoped no one heard. He didn’t know how long it had been. It could have been hours later, he was certain it had not been this close to dark when the boy had caught his attention. 

The boy glanced back and offered an awkward sort-of smile at Erik. Erik nodded back and turned sharply on his heel to leave. He was rubbing the back of his neck, embarrassed he had spent so much time there. He walked away, feeling the boy stand up and follow him out. 

He was about ten feet ahead and started to walk faster, knowing the boy might want to bridge that gap between them. Once he was outside, he was running, the collar of his jacket turned up and his bag slamming against his body. His feet slammed against the pavement, and he was breathing quickly. 

Erik kept running until he was in the dark tunnels of an underground station. He swallowed, hard, and caught his breath as best he could. His heartbeat still thundered in his ears, and he was leaning against a map pillar. He rubbed his neck and then shook his head. 

Erik realized he was being stupid. There was no point in running away like that. There was no reason to run at all anymore, now that he thought about it. A woman muttered an excuse me, and he stepped away with an apologetic nod. He started walking through the darkness of the subway station. 

It wasn’t like the boy knew who he was. It wasn’t even like the boy had posed a threat. He had been watching the boy, it was only logical he might want to talk. He had run because of that, and because of the familiarity he felt. 

He had a card for the subway, and paid for a ticket to a station on the other side of the city. When he got to the station, he took a train to another station on another side of town. The trip was longer than it needed to be, but he had developed an abject paranoia in the last few years. 

Within a moment he was walking into a dingy, dirty apartment. He switched on the light and tossed his jacket over the back of the chair. He swallowed hard and looked around. This was not his home, nor would it ever be. Someone else rented it out for him, a man he had met once. 

Erik sat down on the couch and looked at the ceiling. There was one bedroom, but it had been seldom used. He liked to sleep on the couch, a habit he tried not to think too much about. He sighed and kicked an old take out box out of the way. He had been on his own for almost a year, but not long enough for it to sink in that he should really take better care of himself. 

He sat there, glaring at his take out box. He yawned and looked at the ceiling. In the corner were his textbooks and brand new notebooks. He didn’t have an opinion on school, but found certain parts of it dull and useless. Especially classes that were federally required, like Physicals and some Mathematics. They were things he knew, and everyone knew, he wouldn’t need later. 

He glared at the books, and they sat there. THey seemed to be reminding him that soon the summer would end, and he would get to go back to school. It didn’t exactly annoy him so much as serve as a grim reminder that he’d have to go back to hiding.

At least during the summer he could use his mutation without fear of being discovered. At least during the summer there was no one who would talk to him and try to learn more about him. 

At least, during the summer, he was alone. Alone protected him. 

Erik reached under the couch and pulled out a small box of cigarettes. He slid one out and lit it, humming between puffs of smoke. He yawned, the grey curling from his lips in a way that was almost beautiful. It reached its filter while he was still watching the smoke. It was put out into an ashtray that he had fashioned himself. 

He flexed his fingers, watching as he willed the ashtray into a dull metal sphere. Erik found that his power really only worked when there was so much anger in him, anger that he really couldn't change. As a result, he chose to change the world around him, until his anger was spent and something was twisted and unrecognizable. 

He closed his eyes for a second, and was subjected to memories he knew that no teen should ever have. The sight of his father’s body onto sidewalk, the dull shouts. The metal sphere flattened back into an ashtray. He tried to focus on the metal, and only the metal.

It didn't help. 

The memories coming on too fast and too clear. Erik was yelling, his voice literally being ripped from his throat. There was a coin, flashing in front of his eyes. Then, he saw the coin and there was nothing but crimson.

He opened his eyes, cursing and wondering why he had to think about it constantly. He knew why, but he refused to truly consider it.

Erik yawned and fell into a dreamless sleep. He had stopped dreaming when he was 14. It was at that point he realized that there was no point in dreaming or even really thinking anymore. In spite of high resolution to never dream again, the boy flashed in his mind's eyes a few times in the twilight zone between sleeping and waking. 

Erik had slept in his clothes again, on the couch. Half his body was wrapped in a blanket, he must have gotten somehow between moments of sleep. He stripped off his clothes and took an icy shower. He got dressed in a plain white t-shirt and dark jeans. The teen slipped on a leather jacket before going outside to make it to the subway station

He took the same trip back to the library. That was his safe haven. It was his place. He went there nearly everyday, until school started and that was his principal focus. 

Erik went to school for a month and a half. 

He rarely thought about the boy from the library in the sense that he would never not think about the boy. He thought about how familiar he had seemed, and the strange fact that he was drawn to him by some inexplicable drive. The only thing he didn’t think about was how he had tried to run away.

He went to the library weekly, hoping that maybe he would see the boy again. He realized that this was probably a sign he was losing his mind. He had no reason to go, except that there was something about the boy that made Erik feel like he wasn’t all alone.  
That was during the last few weeks of August, and the early days of September. 

Eventually Erik stopped seeing him, so he stopped looking. He went to school, got passing grades and almost forgot about the boy. He no longer wondered about why he thought the boy was special. September passed. His classes started taking more time, and he had to start thinking about university. He was still a year away from graduating, and yet the thought of the future was being constantly shoved in his face. At one point he was certain he was going to lose his mind. 

The week passed, and then it was October. The classes suddenly got a little harder, for no reason at all. He found himself starting to fall behind in math, through no fault of his own. It had just stopped making sense.His grades started to slip. And then he was back at the library studying. He was trying to keep track of the numbers, although he may have been hoping for a glimpse of the blue eyed boy. 

Then, there was the matter of his job, or lack thereof. Most of his expenses were paid for by Caliban and his people. He had no need to pay a phone bill, or rent, and his food was paid for by a prepaid credit card. It had all come with his trip to America. He would live in relative comfort so long as no one ever found out he was a mutant.

And yet, he realized, he needed a job, even if he needed to just keep up appearances. A week into October, he was bussing tables on the weekend. It was frustrating, and barely worth the pay. But now he had a little money, and his grades were slipping. It was all just perfect, really.

It went on like this, day after day after day. It made him almost sick with boredom. 

The only classes he had perfect grades in were physics and history. Everything else was hovering at a steady, barely passing grade. He spent his nights studying concepts he didn’t understand. At one point, he tossed his math book out the window just to see if it would break. It didn’t, and the cover seemed to taunt him. After he pulled the book from the trash bin it landed in, he fell asleep on his couch. 

He woke up early, around four in the morning. He had been avoiding going to school for three days now, pretending to be ill.

In reality, he was just moping about. He figured he may as well go today, and leave the apartment. Erik thought he was going to lose his mind if he stayed in his apartment the other day. There was another part of him that want to just drop out. But he couldn't because he knew his mother would have wanted him to at least finish high school. He sighed and rubbed his head.

There was no real way to win.

He wondered if he could try calling someone for tutoring. The problem was he didn’t know anyone’s number, because he hadn’t asked. 

He had been going to school in the city for almost two years. Erik had transferred in the middle of sophomore year, and he had no one to ask for help. That wasn’t to say he didn’t know anyone. Through his time there, he realized he had classes with basically the same ten people. He hadn’t wanted to talk to them, but they had enfolded him into their group nonetheless. He wouldn’t call them his friends, but he knew them and talked to them. 

That was also annoying. 

How pathetic is it to go to a school for a year and not actually know anyone well enough to ask for help?

He decided it would be easiest to just go to school. 

The subway ride felt too short, and he felt even more tired when he crossed the threshold into the actual campus. No one in the world took notice of him, except for the lockers. They always seemed to call out and hum to him. They were practically yelling at him to rip them apart in rage. 

Then he found his book and walked to his first period: Physics. He rather enjoyed it. He asat towards the back, but was generally an attentive student. It was a small class, with maybe nine people total. There was him, Hank McCoy, Alex Summers, a girl named Moira, and a few other people he wasn’t sure he knew the names of. It was a quiet class,and as a result, Erik quite liked it.

It was one of the few classes he was still doing well at. 

He liked it. He was good at math, something that always made his teachers question his grades. How could one student fail math but pass a conceptual physics class? 

Erik would slouch in the back. It was only seventy minutes, and then the bell would ring. In a robotic stupor, he would go to his next five classes. In physics, he was a bright, shining, top of the class student. Once the bell rang, he knew how the rest of the day would go. His life was that predictable. 

For the rest of the day he would be disinterested and zombie-like. He would eat lunch with Hank and a few other teenagers from the physics class. He would brighten up in his history class. He would manage to be alive for one class and then he would shut down again. After his final class of the day, he would go home and the cycle would be complete.

That is, until a boy plopped into a seat behind him five minutes before the bell rang. 

“Sorry I’m late'' 

“ ‘S fine. Pick a seat, we're just about to leave. You are?”

The boy said his name, and Erik couldn’t hear it over the sounds of teenagers getting ready for a bell to ring. 

New students were not uncommon, but they usually showed up after the first semester. They showed up in January. That was what happened to Erik. He had shown up in January; a boy with passable English and post-traumatic stress disorder. His story was that he had been kicked out of his previous school for having too many detentions. No one knew anything. 

New students were usually like Erik: people who showed up late, but timed right. 

They rarely showed up late one morning in the middle of October. Erik was surprised when the new kid sat in the seat behind him, and was even more surprised when he glanced back and saw it was the boy from the library.

Erik hummed a non committal greeting, the boy humming back. When Erik looked at him, he felt the same sort of familiarity. He also felt a dull buzzing, not unlike the lockers. When he tried to use his powers to figure out what it was, he was pushed back. It was like two similar magnets, and he was weaker. His powers, and by extent him, were pushed away. 

The bell rang. 

Erik left the class, feeling as though there was something else circulation inside his head that no one would ever hear. 

He glanced at the boy, but didn’t see him. He swore he could feel him nearby, like some sort of projection. 

It didn’t matter.


	2. October

It was a strange thing, having a new student nearby. Everyone wanted to know him, figure out his deal and put him in a box. He was quietly intelligent, but he was also an amiable and distinctly likable. He was different, but he was also like everyone else. 

Erik did, eventually learn his name. His source was Raven grinning and hugging the new boy.

“Charles. You actually transferred, how did you do it?”

“A bit of yelling and eventual bribery.”

The boy had a name now. His name was Charles. 

Now Erik’s minor obsession had a name. That made it seem worse, because now he was actually thinking about a person. Things had been easier when he was just a random boy he had hoped to get a glimpse of. Now the glimpse had a name and Erik had to exert effort to avoid mentioning the library. 

So, it came as a complete surprise Erik found himself talking to him. It was even more of a surprise when Erik found himself spending most of his day around him. It was a surprise in the sense that it should have been obvious, he just wasn’t expecting it.

He only had one other class with Charles. It was speech, a class that Erik had all but forgotten to care about. He had two of six classes with him, and yet Erik felt like he was always around. Because, even when Charles wasn’t there, he felt a familiar, warm presence nearby. 

He didn’t know if it was Charles, but it was enough like him by association.

And, every time he was near Charles, there was that strange humming and buzzing. He came to think of it as being electrocuted, it felt about the same. And he would try to find the source, because he knew it had to be something metal. 

And every time, he would get pushed back. He would be standing there, beside Charles, feeling like he had been slapped upside the face. And then Charles would raise his hand to answer a question, completely unaware that Erik now had a headache. 

He also knew it was coming from under the sleeves of the boy’s jacket, because that was the only thing he was unfamiliar with. 

Erik sighed and went back to taking notes, staring at the sleeves of the boy he turned to say something to one of the other students. 

It was only natural that Charles would become a member of their small group. It was still strange to see how well he managed to fit in with them. You would have thought that Charles had been there all along; he had always been there laughing with Hank and teasing Sean. And then, suddenly, he would smile at Erik, he would talk to him. 

Fuck.

Erik would get out a reply, and he would sit in sullen silence. He was pretty sure that was someone else’s fault. Why would he, of all people, suddenly be struck dumb by a boy he wasn’t sure he knew they last name of?

There was a day, maybe three days after the new boy had first shown up. He had been staring at the other teen’s lips, catching himself doing so and finding the blue eyed boy staring back at him. He ended up cursing in a mix of Polish and German, and ended up avoiding all human interaction for the rest of the day. 

Oh, the joys of his life.

What’s worse, he didn’t even know how to think about it. And so, like so many of his problems, he tried to repress it. He would have been successful too, if it wasn’t for a day a few days before Halloween. It had been a normal conversation, about something Erik wouldn’t remember. There had been a lull, and a few minutes of silence between Erik and Charles. 

“Hey Erik? Well… I need a favor. I need you to get me a detention. Hank and Raven said you were the best place for this.” Charles’s ocean eyes were wide, and his lips were curled into a cheeky grin. And then the mutant cursed himself for thinking the words ocean eyes. 

Erik let out a dry, mirthless laugh. It was part of who he was pretending to be. He was Erik, the boy who had come to this school after being expelled for having too many detentions. The part fit him well, and he really didn’t have to lie about anything. He was good at the act of sullen silent type with a troubled past. 

In reality, though, he had come to this school at the middle of last year. Before this there were years wandering in Germany, there was Caliban, and there was his mother. But right now, Chalres needed the smart boy with too many detentions. 

“What do you need a detention for? I mean, I can get one for you. But what for?” It wasn’t hard to get someone a detention. Just steal a slip, write in a school sin of your choice, and scribble what was either a teacher’s signature or complete nonsense. 

“I…I just do, okay? Need a detention.” 

Erik sighed, and though carefully. He looked at the other boy and sighed. “I can’t do that. But I might have a better idea.” 

He really didn’t have a better idea. 

“Let’s just... Hell, I don’t know. If you don’t want to go home, or something like that, let’s do something else.” 

Erik was rambling, and a small, angry voice in his head was telling him to shut up. 

“Me and you. After school. Let’s go to the library.” He was sighing, while the other boy hummed thoughtfully.

“Okay. We can go there. D’you have a car?” 

Erik shook his head, “Nah. I usually take the train everywhere.” 

“All right. All tight. But what’s your problem with forging a detention slip for me?”

“I just don’t, not for you. It’ll leave a mark on your record. And I know we’re going to graduate in a year or so, and there isn’t a point to anything really. But it doesn’t feel right getting you in trouble if you’re so… so ...” 

“I get it, Erik.”

They went to the library, the same one where Erik had watched him between the bookshelves. They sat down at a table in the corner. There were two windows that met there, giving the illusion that they were in a great glass box. 

“Why the library?” Charles asked. 

“There’s no fee, and anyone can really do anything. So they can’t kick us out either.” 

Charles nodded and adjusted the sleeves of his jacket. It was late October, but it had been a relatively warm October. And the library was heated, and Erik had already tossed his jacket over the back of an extra chair. Really, there was no need for a jacket. 

Erik felt a dull hum in his brain, like maybe something was calling out to him. The problem was he had no idea where the hum was coming from. It was exceptionally off putting. This time, instead of having a general idea of where it being somewhere, it was everywhere. 

“Anyway. We don’t have to do much. I have math homework to do anyway. So I might do that,” Erik said, wondering if he was even speaking English anymore. Because everything he said sounded disjointed and incoherent to him. That, and he hoped that Charles couldn’t understand a word he was saying. 

“All right. I’m going to go see how long it takes for a librarian to be concerned about me.” Charles got up and retreated through the shelves, humming. His fingers brushed the spines of the books, almost idly and almost tenderly. 

Erik nodded, not really caring what the other boy did. He was just doing this so he wouldn’t have to give the other boy a detention. That was all. Charles walked away, leaving him alone in the glass box. He got out his textbook and paper, working to solve problems that he would never need in real life. Charles came back half an hour later with a few books and grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes. The mutant barely glanced up, not wanting to break his death glare on the numbers and that obdurate letter X. He stared for what could have been another hour. 

“Fuck this.” 

Erik started to push his things back into his bag, just giving up. He didn’t care all that much about math anyway. And why should he? He already knew that there was no point, especially since he didn’t see himself having some grand job in the future. He sighed, and Charles glanced up from his book. 

“I’m a bit out of practice, but could I have a go at it?” Before Erik could agree, disagree, or simply jump out a window, Charles was holding his math book and reading the problem with a hum. “Okay. These ones are annoying, I will admit. The third value always gets me…” Charles scribbled a few things on a piece of paper that appeared from thin air. Erik watching with raised eyebrows a tilted head. Charles was automatic in his work, absorbed in the world of numbers and figures.

He hummed, pausing and rereading what he had written. Idly, he tapped a pencil against his lips. Erik stared at the pencil, once again cursing himself. He was still considering jumping out the window (although for different reasons this time), when Charles stopped writing and passed the paper over. There, arranged neatly on the paper, was the problem Erik had stared at for maybe an hour. It made sense too, when he saw it all written for him. 

A grin found its way onto his face, even if the window still seemed like a viable option. The grin turned into a full, genuine smile. “Thanks. Now I don’t think that I will kill my math teacher. Or myself.” Charles laughed, “That’s good. Let me know if you need more help.”

“With math or premediated murder?” 

“Both.” 

Erik nodded, and set to work. He was able to understand the concept Charles had explained to him. He turned the page, and there was an entirely new concept there that he didn’t even know anything about. 

“Charles? I need your help again. And maybe a knife.” 

Charles grinned and looked at the problem. He started doing it, explaining the process out loud to the other teen. It made sense, but Erik only knew it would be temporary. He got back to work a few moments later, after he was done with the problem. 

Sometime later, he was done and Charles had dozed off on top of his stack of books. Erik smiled and gently prodded him with his pencil. “ ‘M sorry,” Charles mumbled, rubbing his eyes and stretching. He saw Erik and brightened. “Thanks for bringing me here. It was infinitely better than detention.” He nodded, and went back to shoving his math stuff into his bag. 

“Hey? I have an idea. How about we do this normally? I stop you from committing felonies.” 

“Uhm…” 

“I’ll help you with homework. And then, you are inadvertently doing me a favor by bringing me here.” Against his better logic, Erik shrugged, “Sure.” Charles, if possible, managed to brighten even more.

Charles grinned at Erik. The German boy smiled in a way that was too awkward to be truly sweet, but had the quality of being sincere.

“I have to go soon, but I can text you,” Erik offered. He pulled out his phone, an older, beat up model that was completely paid for by Caliban. The rule was to start a new life, there was nothing in the rules about talking to boys. Charles punched his number into Erik’s phone just as he checked his watch. “Okay. You text me and then we can talk,” the other boy said brightly. 

Erik nodded and turned, saying a quick goodbye, running late for his appointment to get home, smoke a cigarette or two, and go to sleep. He took the train home again, and found himself in his still-dirty apartment. 

“Where shall we begin?” He sent with a smirk that he knew Charles couldn't see. 

The other boy replied almost immediately. “Dunno. But did you find it absolutely necessary to start sounding like a sociopath?” 

“What?” Erik shot back, grinning in spite of himself. An image of Charles grinning back at him flashed unwanted and unprovoked inside his head. 

“Your text made you seem like an eccentric millionaire who ordered a rentboy just so he can kill him.” 

Erik didn’t know what to say to that, and ended up staring at his phone for a ridiculous amount of time. He finally sent a non committal “ok.” They texted for another hour, about school and life in general. None of it seemed to really sink into Erik’s head. Whenever he got a message from Charles he felt like he was forgetting something he had noticed earlier. 

When Charles mentioned his stepfather being away for the week, Erik got another mental image. The image was of Charles, alone in an empty room. The boy in the image was a few years younger, and looked terrified. Erik brushed it away as being another manifestation of his own memories. 

Nothing really stuck in his head, and he was cursing himself for not figuring it out. Eventually he signed off, noticing it was past midnight. He yawned, mostly out of acknowledgment of the time. He stretched out on the couch. He couldn’t be bothered to walk to his bed and put on actual pajamas. 

He slept, the two images he had of Charles stuck in his head. Charles in the empty room and Charles smiling and laughing. He knew both were just his imagination. He was just projecting, taking his own thoughts and putting them onto the other teen. It was just his own mind, that was all. That was all it was. 

That’s all that it needed to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> beta'd by the lovely @fandomallthetime24601


	3. October

“You aren’t actually going to have a Halloween party, are you Hank?” Raven said, rolling her eyes. 

Hank shrugged. “Nah, not really. I’m just saying that I have a surplus of alcohol and a lack of adult supervision.” Erik grinned at that, too wide grin that seemed to make Hank move a little further down the table. 

Alex grinned. “I’m in. I’d totally be down for alcohol and no supervision.” “You’re a sophomore. You’re practically a baby,” Raven pointed out, earning a glare from Alex. 

“And your point is?” 

Erik listened, not actually caring that much about the outcome. He was just interested in free alcohol. A few small squabbles broke out, most of them initiated by Sean and Alex. Kids these days. 

“I think it's a pretty good idea, actually,” Charles said. He stayed quiet for most of the conversation, and had a small smile on his face. 

“Okay, cool. But the question is: will I be allowed to drink?” 

Everyone shrugged, not really caring at this point. Erik rolled his eyes, sighing and looking around. “Well, if this is really what we’re doing I guess I can live with it,” Raven said, and then grinned wickedly, “Can we also do costumes?” She glanced around, the wicked grin not quite disappearing. Everyone shrugged, not really wanting to say anything besides noncommittal murmurs. 

“How about this? Costumes are optional. But if you do show up in one, and it's better than everyone else’s, you get money.” 

Everyone was suddenly very, very interested in doing costumes. Even Erik, who had never done anything for Halloween ever. Being a German Jew, the holiday was a purely American thing. But, he wouldn’t mind getting a cheap costume if it meant getting money in return. 

“How much money, exactly?” Charles asked with a grin. Raven glanced at him and shook her head. Hank didn’t seem to catch Raven begging both of them to stop talking. 

“Maybe each of us could pitch in five dollars? That’s an easy-” He paused to count. “-Fifty dollars.” Alex smiled and rubbed his hands together, the perfect picture of a cartoon villain. And then he stopped and looked around. 

“Hank, buddy, I hate to tell you this, but there’s nine of us. And that’s only if you count Erik.” Erik nodded, still on the fence about doing it. After all, how far was he willing to go for money? 

“Well, yeah. This was a best case scenario. But still. And I figured I could pitch in an extra ten to make it an even fifty. Y’know, because forty-five is a stupid number.” Hank’s ear’s were bright red, which contrasted sharply with the somewhat confident voice he was using. 

“Ok, okay. Wait. Before we all go broke trying to figure out how much we put in, who is participating?” Angel said, raising her eyebrows and throwing her hands up in the air. There were muttered and sidelong glances, until finally, someone, maybe Sean, spoke up. “I’ll do it for the money.” 

And then suddenly, everyone wanted to do it. They all agreed to pitch in five, and Hank even pooled in ten to make in an even fifty dollars. Because, yes, Erik pitched in five dollars too. It surprised exactly everyone, including him. But, well, he knew exactly why he had done it.

Charles had smiled at him as the others were all putting in their money. And then, Charles had signed up, and Erik did so right after him. He blamed it on a temporary lapse in sanity. They were all looking at him, too. They were incredulous, wondering why on earth Erik would agree to this.

If possible, they were made more surprised by Charles. “Alright. So, we have fifty dollars? I’ll throw in another fifty to make it an even hundred.” 

Hank just about fainted, and everyone was grinning at Charles. Alex gave him a little mock bow, half shouting, “You sir, are a god. We are not worthy of you.” 

“Charles, are you sure-” 

“Of course I’m sure, Moira.”

“But that’s a lot of money-” 

“Yes, I’m quite aware of that, thank you.” Moira gave up on arguing, because Charles wasn’t listening to a word she was saying. 

The lunch bell rang, and everyone was still singing their praises to Charles as they packed up their stuff and went to class. Erik got through the day, wishing he hadn’t agreed to theri stupid idea. In the middle of English his phone buzzed. Discreetly, he slid it out of his pockets. There was a text from Charles. 

“LIbrary? I’ll be waiting for you in the back of the school, near the soccer pitch.”

Erik didn’t need to look at his phone to respond. He would be there, ready to take the subway to the library. Hell, if Charles had said to come right then and there, he would have done it. He would have liked to, because who needed to study a language they already spoke?

“Erik. You have to have a costume beside ‘sleep deprived teenager,’ right?” Charles was grinning at him over the top of a book. Erik glanced up and tilted his head. He rested his head on his hand, humming for a moment before answering. 

“I really don’t. My plan is to go as a sleep deprived teenager. I’m sticking with it, too. It’s not like I have a better idea. I’ve never even gone out in costume before. It wasn’t a thing for me.”

Charles looked shocked. “I’m not surprised, but I’m still surprised. Anyway. Let me pick you a better costume.” Erik tried to get back to work, barely managing to pay attention to his physics questions. “Never. Besides, what are you going to be, if you’re so good at costumes?” 

“T-Bird. Slick my hair back and wear a leather jacket. Easy, but still fun.” 

Erik nodded and then tried to figure out the velocity of a falling object. He was able to do the math easily, and had done four more questions before he felt the eyes of the other boy on him. 

“You’re not going to stop looking at me until I agree, are you?”

“Nope.”

“Fine.” 

He put his textbook away and stood up. He cracked his back and slung his bag over his shoulder, looking down at Charles. “It was easier to convince you than I thought it would be.” 

Charles stood up and hummed, putting his books back on the shelves where they belonged. Erik, meanwhile, was considering the logistics of the whole thing. It was three days before the holiday, after all. “How many costumes do you actually expect there to be? This is like the last minute.”

“I have my ways.”

Erik rolled his eyes and took the lead out of the library. Charles overtook Erik, practically sprinting to get to the front. “Nah. I’m not letting you take the lead here. I’m sure that if it was up to you, you would buy a pair of cheap fangs from a twenty-four hour convenience store.”

“You can buy a fang set from a convenience store?” 

“I hope not.”

After a few moments of walking, Charles had ordered a car for the pair of them. They clambered into the backseat, putting their bags on the floor between their feet. Erik sighed and wondered how Charles had just managed to summon a car. He would have asked, but the other boy was looking pointedly out the window. Erik knew that probably meant that he didn’t want to talk for the moment.

They pulled into the parking lot of a discount Halloween store. Erik looked around and groaned out loud. He didn't want to do this. He didn’t want to be in the verifiable purgatory that sold terribly decorations and even worse costumes. He didn’t want to be glared at by parents, and stared at by little kids picking out Disney character costumes. 

“No-no Charles I am not going to-” It was too late. Charles was pulling him along by the hand, to add to the embarrassment. The other boy was much stronger than he looked, or maybe Erik wasn’t trying his hardest. 

They walked in, and it was even worse than Erik imagined. Music from Nightmare Before Christmas balred over the speakers, the employees were either sporting zombie costumes or were actually zombies, and Erik could distinctly hear a little girl sobbing to her parents. Charles held onto his wrist, which was good because he wanted to run out the door. 

“I’m in hell.”

“Shut up.”

Charles led Erik deep enough into the store that he couldn’t see the exit, so he couldn’t escape. Eventually they stopped, and Charles looked around. “I have an idea, but I’m pretty sure you’ll hate it.” “I hate all of this.” Charles grinned in a way that suggested that he would hate it even more than he hated this. 

Charles left him there, walking through racks of costumes. The mutant stood there in sullen silence, hoping that he could just die right then and there. Charles came back a few seconds before Erik tried to hang himself with a string of orange, pumpkin shaped lights. The teen stared at him for a moment, bemused as he handed Erik a black package. 

Inside was a fedora, black armbands, a jacket vest, and spats. “How do you feel about mobster?” Charles asked in a way that indicated he already knew the answer. Erik didn’t hate it, but he had an image to maintain, damn it. 

“No.”

Charles pursed his lips and sighed. “Fine. You want to go as a sleep deprived teenager? Fine.” He left, weaving through the racks. Erik went back to knotting the string of lights into a respectable noose. Maybe they could slap a price tag on him and say he was part of the decorations. 

He came back, holding a black cape, a suit jacket, and a packet of fangs. “Vampire. It's just a sleep deprived, angsty teenager with a cape and a need for braces.”

“Braces don’t fix fangs, do they?”

“That’s not the point. Are you doing it or not?”

Erik didn’t want to agree. Still, he ended up in a check out line about a mile long, holding the costume. When they got up to the counter, a zombie rang it up. Charles shoved the mutant out of the way so he could pay. Charles ended up handing the costume bag to Erik with a grin. 

“I hate you.”

“You and I both know that’s not quite true. I’m the closest thing you have to a friend.”

Erik stared at him for a second longer than he probably should have. He looked away, his neck and ears warm. “Whatever. But you should have at least let me pay for it.” The other teen shook his head and Erik rolled his eyes. They stood on the curb, waiting for another car to arrive. “You really didn’t have to.”

“Think of it as a gift, for letting me be around.”

“How can you afford all this? My costume, the cars, the subway, the fucking money for Hank’s party.”

Charles took a long, deep breath before answering. He closed his eyes, absently adjusting his sleeves. Eri barely registered the buzzing. It had become like background noise to him. 

“My name, my full name is Charles Xavier. I made sure no one actually knew it when I started. The teachers never say it. I’m just Charles. But no, its Charles Xavier.”

That, Erik somewhat recognized. “Like the company?”

“Yeah. My father co-owned it with Kurt Marko before he died. Kurt took full ownership of the company, but I’m still the heir apparent.” 

“Oh. Sorry about your father.”

“It doesn’t matter. I barely remember him. My mum remarried. She remarried Kurt, actually. I… well… I have a lot of money to spare.”

“Wow,” Erik replied numbly. Charles shrugged and nodded. “Yeah.” 

The car rolled up and the two boys clambered in. “Charles? Where are we going?” Charles only smiled, and Erik realized he didn’t care all that much. 

“One last stop, okay? For you to get the true All Hallow’s Eve experience.”

The last stop was to a convenience store that didn’t sell vampire fangs. Charles told the driver to wait for them. Erik followed him inside, as Charles grinned and headed straight for the candy aisle. He followed him, with his eyebrows raised. The other teen was holding two half pound bags of candy, grinning and humming. “You get one too.”

“Why? I’m not going to be handing out candy.”

“It’s not for kids. It's for you.”

“This is stupid,” Erik said, grabbing the cheapest bag he could see. Charles hummed and shrugged. “Yeah. But it’s good to eat sweets until you get sick.” Erik rolled his eyes, “Is that all?”

“No. Get a slushie cup. Freeze your brain, it's better than cocaine.”

“I…. I’ll actually do that.”

They ended up in the backseat with Erik’s half pound of candy, two slushies, and more junk food than either of them could consume. They were laughing and throwing food into each other’s mouths and just being plain stupid. At some point along the way, Erik must have said his address, because after a half an hour or so of driving they were pulling up at his apartment building. He grinned at Charles and got out, feeling a headache from all the sugar. 

He scooped extra junk food into his bag and grinned, grabbing his slushie cup and leaving. He was going to be so sick, and he was totally okay with that, because Charles was smiling and laughing with him. 

He got as far as the stairwell when his phone buzzed. 

“You forgot your costume.”

“Tragic.”

“Get your ass over here and get it.”

Erik did. But not without stealing some more candy from Charles and rolling his eyes. 

And the rest of the night fell away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> beta'd once again by the lovely @fandomallthetime24601 on tumblr


	4. October-November

“Do you need a ride?” Charles asked Erik as they walked out of school on the thirty first. Erik shrugged, and shoved his hands into his pockets. However much he had enjoyed the fun a few days ago, he still hated the idea of having to put on the costume. 

“Sure.”

“Cool. I’ll come get you at seven-ish?” 

“Mhm.”

Charles rolled his eyes and lightly punched Erik’s shoulder. He hummed and sighed, glancing down at the other teen. The punch didn't even hurt, not really. There was a grin on his face as Erik lightly hit him back. 

They walked to the back of the school, and Erik sighed. “Well. I need to go to my apartment, finish my homework, and die before I have to put on a cape.” Charles scoffed and threatened to kill him if he did so. The logistics weren’t perfect, but they worked for the moment. 

The next three hours passed too fast. Erik finished all his homework, ate half a pizza, and it was still only seven. He was still in his jeans and T shirt, because he really, really didn’t want to put on his costume. 

“Put on your costume or I’ll fight you.” Charles’s text had come a moment after Erik went to his bedroom where the costume was kept. The boy’s texts always had impeccable timing. He didn’t respond, choosing to let the other teen believe he would have to fight. 

Erik looked at himself in the mirror before changing into a white button up with dark slacks. He slipped on the jacket vest and the cape, glaring at his reflection. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, doing his best to make it look like he had a widows peak. His eyes already had dark circles under them, so he certainly looked the part. 

He looked at the packet of fangs. He would wear the costume, but he had decided for himself that the fangs were not going to happen. He folded them into his pocket anyway and sighed, strolling to the door as a dull grey car pulled up. He walked out, shoving the packet of fangs into his pocket with a sigh. 

Erik went outside and opened the car door, rolling his eyes. “This was terrible.” He said, sitting next to Charles. The other teen was smiling widely at him, his hair slicked back. He looked very much the boy of the fifties, with his leather jacket, white t shirt, and blue eyes that Erik was once again staring at. 

“You look like the perfect vampire. Miserable.” Charles spoke brightly, tilting his head as he ran the fabric of the cape through his fingers. “Except you look a little disheveled,” He pointed out as he reached over to adjust Erik’s collar. He smoothed the fabric between the tips of his fingers with a grin.

Erik wondered if his face was as red as it felt. 

“Oh wow. You look really pale, did you sleep? Are you sure you’re up for this?”

Erik nodded, “I’m fine.” He looked out the window as they drove for about thirty minutes. They eventually ended up in an ordinary looking suburb, pulling up into an even more ordinary looking house. They got out of the car, knocking on the door. 

It was Alex who answered, “Yo! Nice…. Erik….” He burst out laughing and moved out of the way of the door, Erik glaring at him while Charles grinned. 

Alex seemed to take the lead, disappearing into the kitchen. He came back with Hank, who had somehow dyed his hair blue and was wearing a labcoat for a costume. He was holding an orange bowl. Inside were crumpled five dollar bills, and Erik dropped his share in with a sigh. Oh, to be parted with five dollars. 

Hank and Alex looked at Charles expectantly. The other teen made a big show of looking through his pockets, before pulling out his five dollars, and a fifty dollar bill. He dropped them into the bowl, and Alex grinned. 

“Alex stop trying to steal the bowl away.”

“It’s obvious I’m going to win, though. I mean, look at me.”

“What are you supposed to be under that hoodie?”

“A stripper.”

Hank flushed red and pulled the bowl away from Alex. He ended up walking away and putting the bowl on a high shelf, like that would stop the teenager from stealing all the money.

Erik made his way the fridge, pulling out a can for him, and a can for Charles. He passed it over, and the other boy hummed and immediately started to take a few small drinks. Erik looked around, appraising everyone else’s costumes.

Alex was apparently a stripper, Hank was a blue haired scientist, Emma was supposed to be a flapper, Raven was a cat. Those were the only ones that stuck in Erik’s head as the alcohol began to set in, strong and hard and setting into his mind. There was also Moira, who insisted on taking a picture with Charles. She was supposed to be a Pink Lady, wouldn’t you know it, and was blushing when the other teen grinned at her. 

“Nice costume, Charles.”

“You too, Moira!”

“Hey, aren’t we technically matching.”

“Yeah, looks like it.”

It made Erik want to roll his eyes for reasons that weren’t related to the stupid cape he was wearing. And then Hank stood at the kitchen table with a pitcher, bottles of alcohol, and bright blue food coloring. He created a new drink that night, one that probably took a few years off of each of their lives. 

In short, it was going better than Erik had expected. At some point during the night, he finished his first beer and got onto his second. A sip into his second, the winner of their contest was decided. It was Emma, with her white flapper dress and feathers in her hair.

Erik stopped hating all of it. 

The party had been going steadily perfect, until Charles started drinking heavily. The boy started to get a little tipsy after his second beer. After a shot of Hank’s blue cocktail, the boy had lost all touch with reality. After a sip of his second shot, Charles was regularly using the word groovy. 

“Erik… Erik, man… groovy… mutation…” There were more words, but they were too slurred by alcohol to be understood. 

“That’s lovely, Charles.”

“Man… I know.”

It was around that point that Erik pried the drinks away. He tasted the blue drink and immediately recoiled, pouring it into a houseplant. He wondered how long it would be until he was as drunk as Charles. He drank another beer. After half another beer and a shot of blue poison the world was blurred. 

He was only vaguely aware of Charles leaning against his chest. Only vaguely. He was talking, saying words he wouldn’t remember but seem to make Charles laugh. He hummed and yawned. An equally wasted Aled grinned and shouted.

“Let’s play a game!”

Erik remembered Charles tugging on his sleeve and convincing him to play. If anything happened after that he didn't know. 

It was the morning after the end of the world. Erik was awake, but didn’t want to wake p. He was afraid to open his eyes, if he was totally honest. He was vaguely aware of being asleep on the floor, a rug underneath him. At some point during the night, he had lost his cape, his fangs were missing from his pocket, and his suit vest was missing. 

He couldn’t care less about all that. 

All he cared about was the warm feeling on his chest. Eventually the anticipation became too much, and he opened his eyes. Charles was sleeping on top of him. Erk didn’t even know how that happened. HIs missing jacket vest was wrapped around Charles’s shoulders. He didn’t know what to think about any of this.

All he wanted to do was run away, but he also didn’t want to wake the other teen. He stared at the sleeping boy, and tried too hard to figure out what had happened. He remembered Alex suggesting a game, playing the game, and nothing else. 

And so he stared, waiting for Charles to wake up. It occurred to him all of two minutes later that it might be creepy to wake up and see someone staring. He closed his eyes, choosing to just let Charles ‘Wake up’ first. The teen eventually did wake up, lightly shaking Erik awake.. He blinked and opened his eyes, watching as Charles eased himself off the other teen. The room was dark, the curtains drawn against sunlight. In the darkness, Erik thought he saw light flush appearing on the other teen’s face.

“What happened?”

“No idea. Should we get home? It’s…” He looked at his phone, “Nine in the morning.” Charles nodded and yawned. 

“D’you think you can order a car? My head hurts too much to take the subway,” Erik said, rubbing his temples. He hadn’t noticed the severity of his hangover until he sat up, and he immediately wanted to stab himself. 

“Yeah. I’ll order it,” Charles said, standing up. He noticed that he was wearing Erik’s jacket vest, and passed it back over. The other teen poked through the bodies of other sleeping teenagers, and found his greaser jacket between Moira and Hank. He slipped it on, went outside. 

Both teenagers groaned and yawned when they left the darkness of the house. Both teenagers were exhausted and nursing headaches. They were all too glad when the car pulled up and they climbed in. 

En route to Erik’s apartment, Charles fell asleep on his shoulder. HE didn’t have the heart to ease him off, and dozed off a little with his face resting on the other boy’s hair. They pulled up to the apartment building, the driver waiting for them to wake up. 

Charles woke up just enough to tell Erik a short goodbye. 

Erik ducked inside his apartment. He wouldn’t leave for the rest of the day, nursing a hangover and living off food he had delivered. He missed his shift at work, calling in to say he was dying. 

Monday came, and he had completely repressed the fact that something had happened only a few nights ago. He didn’t ask Charles, Charles didn’t ask him. They chose not to talk about it, and that was fine with Erik. 

He went to class, and smiled when Charles sat down behind him. Charles smiled back, but it looked forced. There were dark circles under his eyes, and he was favoring his right side. His left arm was adjusting his sleeves, and rubbing his sides.

“Rough weekend? You look how I feel.”

Charles stared at him for a second, making him feel like he was being read and scrutinized. “You could say that,” He said softly. He yawned and rested his head in his hands. “I really want to die right now. My head hurts so much.”

“Me too.”

Charles finally gave a genuine smile and poked Erik with his pen. “What do you say to a death pact then?”

“I’m in.”

They got through class together. Erik could barely understand the teacher, but neither did the other kids. After maybe ten minutes the teacher realized all his students had headaches and wanted to die. He gave up on trying to teach them, which suited them just fine. 

“Free period.”

A halfhearted cheer.

“Hank, may I ask, why is your hair blue?”

“Well, it was part of my costume. But I think I used the wrong dye, and now it won’t wash out. So… yeah. Blue hair.”

The bell rang some time later and they were all forced to go to classes that probably wouldn’t be so lenient. Erik ended up following Hank to their second period. Both boys ended up in the back. 

“Erik?”

“Hm?”

“Uh… we tried to tell you this yesterday, but we realized no one has your number except Charles, and Charles wasn’t answering his phone. But, well, Alex took this video, and apparently sent it to everyone in the group. That’s not a lot of people, really. It’s just me and Raven, Alex, Sean, Emma, and Angel who sorta just lurks.”

“Just show me what it is.”

Hank handed his phone to Erik, pressing play on a video. 

It was them, a few nights ago. Erik and Charles were in a corner of the room, pressed against each other. The angle of the camera was bad, and it was dark, but nobody knew what they were doing. There was a caption along the bottom, the word ‘Finally’ followed by a grinning emoticon. 

Erik paled as he watched it loop and play again. It was only thirty seconds long at most, but it kept going.

“Fuck.”

Hank winced and pulled his phone away, the thing starting to vibrate in Erik’s hands. The metal in the room was responding to him, starting to shake and fall over. He calmed down quickly though, and everyone thought it was some freak incident. 

“Delete that. All of you, delete it.”

Hank nodded. “We already did, for the most part. Alex and I have the last versions.” He showed Erik that it was gone now. “And now Alex is deleting his.” The other teen, the one who had filmed it, held up his phone, showing the empty folder. 

The teacher yelled at them to get off their phones. Erik felt like he was going to vomit. 

“You didn’t tell Charles?”

“Not yet.”

“Good. Don’t tell him.”

“But-”

“Don’t fucking tell him.”

“Okay.”

Erik went home early that day. He had apparently gotten sick during second period. Hank had given him a ride home, after the teacher allowed them both to go. 

He got a text from Charles:

“Are you alright?”

He replied hours later:

“I’m better now.”

He went back to school the next day. He pretended everything was normal, and so did everyone else. No one talked about Halloween. Charles looked worse everyday, but eventually perked back up by the end of the week. They went to the library twice, but neither of them got much done. 

Charles would never remember it. Erik would never remind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> at this point you know who beta'd this.


	5. November

Hank found Erik about a week or two later. The mutant had been making his way to the back of the school, in one of the corridors. He could see the sunlight outside when Hank grabbed him and dragged him into an empty classroom. His hair was still a bright blue, making him look a little ridiculous. However, he was frowning at Erik, so of course he knew what this was about. 

“Are you ever going to tell him?”

“No.”

“Why not.”

“Because. We were drunk, it doesn’t count. And if he finds out, things get complicated. He’ll have questions. I don’t know how to answer them, so.”

“Oh. But don’t you think he has a right to know?”

“Yeah, sure. He has a right to know that you filmed a video of him drunk. He can know that. Make up whatever you want, tell him he made out with a plant. But don’t tell him it was me.”

“Why?”

Erik rolled his eyes. “Because, Hank. I don’t know if he’s gay or not, and for all I know he likes Moira. Besides, what happened happened because of a dare. It doesn’t count. Besides, has anyone told you what you did that night on a dare?”

“Uh…. no.”

“Great. You don’t know what you did, I won’t tell you. Charles doesn’t know, I won’t tell him.” Erik rolled his eyes. “And if you disagree, fine.” He turned sharply on his heel and left the classroom, leaving the blue haired boy standing there. Hank might have called out for him to come back. 

Why would Erik listen?

Charles was waiting for him in the back of the school, on the other side of metal double doors. The other teen was wrapped in a jacket, a scarf just barely wrapped around his neck. Erik felt his face broke into a grin as soon as he saw him. In spite of this, it still needled in the back of his mind that he should tell Charles at some point. He promised, he would, at some point. Maybe. 

For now, they went to the library. 

That became their tradition. Nearly every week they went, Erik getting help from Charles with math or whatever class he started to fall behind in. There was something comforting about the whole arrangement. They would do that, they would study, and they would talk.

Erik would always suddenly notice something about Charles. He noticed it every time Charles adjusted his sleeves, but he never figured out what it was. It needled at his brain, very much real and yet too abstract. He doubted it was even there; He was partially convinced it was just another facet of his paranoia. Maybe the boy just had a nervous habit. Maybe Erik was jumping to conclusions.

Somehow, he ended up telling Charles about his job. Being a restraunt boy wasn’t something he was very proud of, but the other teen made it seem like it was some great job. Charles would show up at the restaurant, and sit down at a table in the corner. Erik would pretend not to know him, but would go out of his way to wait for his table and make sure he got the best service. It always made Charles smile in a sweet sort of way. 

Inexplicably, Erik found himself in the company of the other boy almost constantly. And that too was comforting in its own right. They were around each other what felt like all the time. They spent too much time with this same routine. Charles and Erik were always a few feet apart, perfectly so.

Charles and Erik were at the library again, in their ongoing tradition. Each time, Erik found out a little more about him. Erik would do his homework and talk idly to Charles, and that was it. Now, they spent more time talking than working. It was mostly speculation over the next semester and plans for the soon approaching holidays. 

They wondered about their schedules for the second semester, and finally they started talking about university. It was something Erik hadn’t given much thought to, saying he planned on going to a smaller campus. Erik, in turn, learned that Charles wanted to go to Oxford and study genetics, maybe become a professor in the field. 

When the mutant asked about genetics, in mostly a passing way, Charles’s face lit up. He started talking about the human genome, phenotypes, genotypes, alleles, chromosomes, and more words that came straight out of a textbook. Erik barely understood them, and it made him feel uneasy.

They were all the words he had been forced to hear when he was under the care of Shaw. 

“And then there is human genetic mutation-”

Erik gasped. The smiling, blue eyed boy in front of him disappeared, replaced by a cold eyed, middle aged man. Erik was thirteen, and there was a shiny silver coin that wouldn’t fucking move. He was hearing the same words, and then he was seeing his mother. His mother was standing behind him, muttering that everything would be okay. 

It wasn’t okay. It never was, because Erik couldn’t use his genetic mutation and that meant his mother had to die.

There wasn’t much metal in the library. But there were the nails in tables, and various paper weights, and one or two metal shelves. All of them were shaking, and Erik’s knuckles were white on the edge of the table. 

He could barely breathe, he could barely even see. His heart was roaring in his ears, each beat pumping blood. The blood flowed through tears in his lips, bright and warm and metallic in his mouth. Charles had stopped talking, and he was staring at Erik with wide, afraid eyes. One of the heavier shelves looked like it could topple at any moment. 

“Erik… Erik please stop,” Charles said. 

The only problem was that he wasn’t actually speaking. His lips did not move, but Erik could hear his voice clearly in his head. Erik’s eyes widened and he gasped. The metal in the room stilled. He tried to speak, but his voice was too low and too choked with emotion. 

There was too much happening both outside and inside his head. 

He felt that residual anger and fear that came with every little break from reality. There was also joy, an emotion that had been brought on by Charles but was still entirely his own. He could barely get thought out, let alone words. 

“How did you do that?” He finally managed to whisper after an eternity of silence. His voice was hoarse, like there had been screaming too. 

“I’m like you, okay?” Charles voice was not hoarse, but it sounded like it held as much emotion as Erik’s. Erik was sighing, trying to get his breathing back in order. Hell, he was trying to wake up. This had to be a dream, he would wake up in a moment on his couch and everything would be alright. 

“I’m like you. But you need to calm your mind. You’re literally trying to tear yourself apart.”

Erik realized he hadn't stopped biting his lips. In fact, he had barely calmed down at all. There was still that fear, and he swore that he could see Shaw standing on the other side of Charles. 

“Erik. Erik please. I don’t know what happened to you before, but you need to calm down.”

He shook his head, and then he felt like the world had stopped moving. He felt something else in his head, right next to the fear. It was Charles, or how he imagined the boy would feel. It was warm and serene, and it was steady. It was there. 

Slowly, the fear and anger was replaced by nothing; there was only Charles, and the joy that seemed to follow him. 

“I thought I was alone,” Erik finally managed to stutter out something that wasn’t a pathetic whimper. “You are not alone.” His reply was soft, and it came from inside his head. 

The real Charles, the living Charles, had his eyes shut. He was shaking a little, like he had absorbed some of his fear. And then he was gone, left alone in his mind with his joy at not being the only one. 

Erik’s eyes were wide, pupils were so dilated that the black looked like it could swallow the dull green irises. Charles opened his eyes and gave him a half-hearted smile. There were tears in his bright blue eyes. 

“Are you okay?” 

“I.. I’m fine Erik.”

Erik shook his head. “I’m not the only one?” Charles shook his head, and sighed. He rested his head on his hands. 

“You…. you can get in peoples heads?”

“I’m a telepath. I can read minds, control minds, speak into people’s minds,” Charles said, sighing. 

“And you can hear everyone?”

“No… just you.”

“What? How? Why?”

“You know, Erik. You’ve known the entire time, I think.” Charles hummed and gestured to himself, tilting his head. Erik ran his eyes over Charles's thin frame. Charles grinned and adjusted the sleeves of his jacket. Erik's eyes followed the movement, raising an eyebrow. 

He could feel the buzzing, inviting feeling of metal, just under Charles's sleeves. He knew plenty of boys would wear wristwatches, but Erik knew that it wasn't one. For one, who would have watches on both arms? For another, they were too thin and entirely too utilitarian. 

If anything, they reminded Erik of handcuffs. He didn't understand what they were and reached out with his mutation. The metal became another extension of him, but he did nothing to move it. He simply held it and examined it. He imagined that he could feel the other teen's pulse through them. 

There was metal within them too, like circuits or gears. As he reached inside, to feel the metal and maybe work out its purpose, he found himself opposed. It was almost like an opposing magnetic field, one that was almost suppressive and painful to him. It forced him out of the center, and back into the metal outside.

The metal inside went quiet, like it was refusing to listen to him. It could have been a plank of wood for all the control he had over it. He glanced at Charles, then at the sleeves.

The whole thing couldn't have taken more than a minute, and Charles had just stood there silently. Charles smiled at him gently, silently willing him to be calm. "Yeah, They're impossible, aren't they?" 

Erik nodded and then raised an eyebrow, "What are they?" 

Charles frowned and then rubbed his jacket sleeves again. "They're... They're supposed to help with my mutation." 

Erik stared at him, and reached out again, feeling the metal. From his standpoint, it felt too tight and too much like a restraint. If it was supposed to help, then it shouldn't seem so oppressive. Carefully he willed the metal shell to stretch and reshape, simply change because he wanted it to. 

Charles tensed up and stared at his wrists, in what Erik hoped wasn't fear. "Thank you. I didn't realize just how tight they were." 

Erik nodded and stared at him, and brushed the hair out of the other mutant's eyes, almost out of annoyance. Charles continued to rub his arms, biting his lip. "Is there something wrong, Charles?" 

Charles shook his head, but he winced anyway "Everything is fine, Erik." 

Erik frowned but nodded, unconvinced. He sighed and rested his head on his hands. “I still have so many questions. Like, god, you have no idea.” He paused, “Actually you probably know exactly what I mean. You can read my mind.” He sighed and pinched the bridge of my knows. 

“You can read my mind.”

“I promise I don’t spend a lot of time in there. But your the only person I hear, so I just… hear you. Nothing specific unless I want to. Most of the time I just get the feel of you.” 

“The feel of me.”

“Yeah. It’s like… you but not.”

“Have you ever had to explain this to anyone before?”

“No.”

“Do you know if there are more… mutants like us?”

“I try to keep my eyes open.”

Erik smiled. “Have you found anyone yet?”

“No, just me and you so far.”

They lapsed into an awkward silence. Erik wondered exactly how much Charles had heard, and if he heard that, and if he heard that. On and on he went, in this endless spiral of wondering just how safe the inside of his head worked. Eventually he stopped thinking and ended up staring blankly at Charles’s wrists. That was better than staring at his eyes, an annoying voice in his head pointed out. 

“How are they supposed to help with your mutation?” Erik finally asked. 

“Did I say help? They don’t really help it. They really just regulate it.” Charles was speaking quietly, his voice was slow and completely lacking any of its usual brightness and life. 

“But… why? How?”

“Okay. Well. I’m not sure. This is an idea I had, after I did some research. But most peoples thoughts are a result of electrical and magnetic impulses between the neurons and general nervous system. I think that my mutation automatically enhances the strength of my electrical impulses, allowing me to read and control the thoughts with my own. I think it altered my physiology that other people’s thoughts are..for lack of a better word, tangible.”

“You lost me, but go on. How can you hear me?”

“I’m getting there,” Charles smiled and tapped his wrist. “These things generate the opposite of my mutation, a repelling force. I’m rendered normal with them on. So I didn't hear anyone. It was quiet all the time.”

“Until me?”

“Yeah. I think your mutation naturally creates a magnetic field of some kind. I think it is just strong enough that it can cancel out these,” Charles finally said. He frowned, “That made more sense in my head. But yeah. I think that’s how it works.” He smiled in a tired, sweet sort of way. Erik bit his lips. 

“So… I’m really the only one? That you can hear, I mean.” 

“Pretty much. You’re the only one I can hear clearly. When I’m around you and other people, I can get fuzzy bits from them.”

“And you can see and hear everything?” 

“Not without making a conscious effort. Like I said, I really only feel you. You would know if I was really there.”

Erik shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I feel like I just keep coming up with questions you don't have answers for. But like…. Those first few weeks you were here, and I thought I could feel you with me, was that you?”

“Sorta. I was projecting myself into your mind. It was… weird, being able to hear again. I wanted to make sure it was real.”

“Oh. So. To sum up everything, you can project yourself, talk into my head, make me think your nearby, make me see what you want me too, and read my thoughts.”

Charles nodded, shrugging. Erik must have looked nervous, because he grinned. “Don’t worry, I won’t go in without consent,” He had a cockeyed, teasing grin that practically screamed innuendo. 

“Last question, I promise. Why suppress your power?”

Charles’s face lost its amiable grin. “They manifested when I was still a kid. I thought I was going crazy. Can you imagine being a kid and hearing voices that aren’t your own? To be walking in a park and suddenly hear the thoughts of a man who beats his sons? Or the thoughts of a mother that is just numb to the world?”

“I guess I have no idea what that’s like.”

Charles sighed and brushed his dark fringe from his eyes. He looked and Erik, and he shifted under the boy’s blue gaze. 

“My stepfather thought it would be best if I didn’t hear any of that. The world s frightening, Erik. I know you know that. He wanted his-my safety, at least until I had better control over it.” 

Erik nodded, not satisfied with the answer but also not wanting to pry. It was Charles’s life, not his. He sighed, and looked at his math and English work sprawled over the table. It seemed so irrelevant now, like something someone else would do. 

They sat in silence.Erik still had questions, Charles knew he did, and the unspoken words were heavy between them. 

“Come with me,” Erik said suddenly. “Where?” “I don’t know. Anywhere but here? I don’t think I can focus on my English work.” He was already shoving his books into his bag and a smile forced its way onto his face. He knew what he wanted to do right then, but he didn’t, flicking his eyes over Charles’s lips. 

Charles was smiling, in that same tired sort of way. Erik was leading Charles out of the library by the wrist, a nice change in things from Erik’s perspective. They walked to the subway station, both paying for their own tickets. He put them on a green train heading west, the other boy raising his eyebrows but saying nothing. They left the subway station, went up a side street, a short alley, and a crowded avenue.

“Where-” Erik smiled, and he went quiet. They ended up at the small restaurant where Erik worked. He hummed and sat at a booth in the back corner. Whenever Charles would come here while he was working, he sat at that booth. It was their booth, so to speak. 

“Really?”

“I say we need cheap comfort food.” A girl in the classic 50’s waitress outfit walked up with a grin. “Hi Erik, hi Charles. What can I get you guys? I think I can get it on the house for you.”

Charles glanced up with a smile, “Uhm… fries, and anything cold and sweet.” It was freezing outside, and the sky glinted with the orange that told of upcoming snow. The order was perfectly out of season, and it made the girl laugh. 

“And you?” She barely finished talking when Erik answered with: “Surprise me or give me anything, Magda.” Magda grinned and walked away with a hum, not even bothering to write their order down. Quicker than either of them expected, they had their food. 

Erik would remember the rest of the night fondly, because it was near perfect. He ate more greasy diner food, effectively taking five years off his life. Charles was beside him, and Magda would stand around and talk with them. 

And he wasn’t alone. He remembered that when he was alone in his apartment, fighting his latest bout of panic. He held onto the fact that Charles was out there too, just like him. 

He would fall asleep later that night on the couch. He did not dream, but he remembered the last part of the night on a loop. His phone buzzed, Charles telling him something about nothing. He woke up, talking to Charles until the morning sun was up and melting the small clusters of snow that had fallen. 

The entire time, he felt a warm, calm feeling in his mind. 

At least, if nothing else, that feeling had name of sorts. That feeling was Charles, Charles Xavier, the mutant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta'd by the lovely @fandomallthetime24601 on tumblr, as usual


	6. November

The days passed, one blending into another in a war that was not all that unpleasant. Erik’s every waking hour was spent with his mutation. Every moment was spent thinking about it, practicing with it, trying to understand and control it. And for every time he tried to use it for more than just an ashtray or a spoon, he had to reach deep inside. 

He unlocked it with anger, Charles looking over his shoulder the entire time. 

“Try again,” He would say, glancing up from the pages of the book he was reading. They were at the library, Erik looking out the glass cube into the parking lot. Row after row of cars stood there. He had moved cars before, made them crumple in on themselves. But he had been young then, a child. 

“I can’t.”

“Just a few inches, that’s all you need.” 

“Why don’t I see you practicing?”

Charles raised an eyebrow, and smirked. He placed his fingers to his temple, and pushed himself into Erik’s head. Erik gasped, and felt like he was being pushed to the back of his mind. Charles took control, using Erik’s body to quickly finish the history homework that sat forgotten on the table between them. Charles hummed with Erik’s lips, and then left. 

“I don’t need to practice. I already have.”

Erik frowned as he was allowed back into his mind, blinking and rubbing his temples. He sighed and gazed out the window. He reached out, not really thinking about anything in particular. 

His eyes landed on a black truck. He raised a hand, and hoped it would move. It did, an inch or two off the ground. No one would notice it, and he sighed when he let it hit the asphalt. 

“Are you happy now?” Erik muttered. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He did not feel tired. But, moving the car out of will alone was so much more work. He found it odd, how metal would move when he didn’t want it to, or when he was angry.

“I’m happy, yes.” Charles replied, going back to his book. 

Erik rolled his eyes and glared at the car. He tried to move it, and it did, but it felt like he was trying to exercise without stretching. Eventually he ended up closing his eyes.

A mistake. He felt his body grow cold and shaky, and he was remembering his mother. His mother, moments before a bullet entered her body. She had turned around and put her arms around him. It was a fluke, really.

It was a mistake. The bullet hadn’t been meant for her. No one knew who it was meant for. Erik had been close to fourteen at the time. He had been taken to the police station, and the hospital, being treated for a fractured wrist. The six months after had been a blur of courts and testimonials. 

And somehow, he had ended up in the care of the blonde German. He had moved to Germany with him, leaving his parents graves behind in Poland. And then there was a coin that wouldn’t move. And why would it? He had no idea how it would. The car that hit his father had been a fluke, his mother’s bullet a mistake. 

“You can control the metal, Erik.”

He really couldn’t. An hour passed, and the coin remained obdurately on the kitchen table. His stomach ached, but he knew that he wouldn’t be allowed to leave his seat until the coin moved at least a little. His foster parents had grown annoyed about ten minutes ago. He was being shouted at, mostly the words for useless and stupid. The metal still wouldn’t move. 

Erik’s German was good, better than his English. 

“Ich habe deine Mutter getötet.”

The coin moved then. 

Charles was shaking him lightly, saying his name softly. He was sitting directly next to him, his hands holding his shoulders tightly. His eyes were closed, and Erik was breathing too fast, his heart was beating too fast, and his body was freezing cold. “Erik, Erik please, you need to calm down.”

Erik was shaking his head, trying to take deep breaths. They came out as shuddering rattles that seemed too loud for comfort. 

It took a long time. Charles made sure to sit close to him the entire time, until the panic wore off. Erik was still shivering half an hour later when most of the panic edged away. He felt restless, too restless to stay in the library. He had no idea how to say that he needed to get out of here. 

“Almost there, Erik.” Charles was in his head, but barely. It seemed the other boy was afraid to go to far in this time. Charles’s hand was on his shoulder, and his eyes were firmly closed. Charles was shaking, not nearly as much as Erik had been. Erik looked closely, and thought he could see something like tears wetting the other teen’s eyelashes.

He hadn’t spoken for a long time, but his voice was hoarse. 

“You can stop now,” He stuttered, but he did say it. Charles nodded and opened his eyes. 

“I’m sorry.”

“What for?” Charles seemed genuinely confused, even if he was able to read minds. 

“Fucking panicking.”

“Not your fault.” The telepath said this with a sort of grim finality. Erik knew there would be no way to argue. 

Two hours passed. Erik finished his homework, taking his time on every question. THey were a good distraction, in spite of being a total waste of time. He still foudnt eh fact that the had to study English stupid. He spoke the language without even the slightest trace of an accent, honestly that should count for something. 

And then they had to leave. Charles stayed with Work for the entire subway ride, and even for the walk up to his apartment building. 

“You are okay right?” 

“I’ll be fine.” Erik knew he was lying, and he knew Charles knew it too. He sighed and adjusted his bag, glancing at the double doors of his apartment. He sighed and rested a hand against the handle. “I guess I’ll go now.” CHarles nodded slowly. 

And then they were in the psychics room, just finishing up calculating their reaction times. Charles was humming, staring pointedly at the teacher’s desk. Erik knew what he was going to ask, even without telepathy. 

“I can try.” 

The desk was metal, and could probably withstand nuclear annihilation. And, worse, it was bolted to the floor. Erik looked at it in what was really a mix of thinking this would be easy and this would be the hard. He extended his fingers, imaging the table as another extension of him. 

The table shook, lifting an inch off the ground. The teacher's laptop slammed closed, and the teacher looked around. Were they having an earthquake? Erik grinned and the desk stopped its momentary seizure. 

“You probably could cause an earthquake, if you wanted to.” Charles sounded more like a teacher than the actual teacher did. 

“What’s stopping you from getting in my head and doing that yourself?”

Charles had an unreadable expression. “Nothing except my morals,” He said with a small, sly smile. Then, his face lost its grin. “I know why you have a hard time with it.”

“Oh, do enlighten me.” Erik was still glaring at the metal table. He hated his mutation with a passion. No, that was wrong. He hated the fact that he couldn’t just use it. He had to be angry for it to really work. He had to think about fucking Shaw and his mother. He could never just use it. He had to be ready to murder for it to really work. 

“You already have it figured out. You know you can be better. But you were… you are used to it being an anger sorta thing. It really isn’t, is it? It- you’re capable of a lot more than you think.”

Erik scoffed, muttering a maybe. The bell rang, and Charles was sighing. They said short goodbyes before parting ways. 

As Erik walked to his next class, he knew Charles was following his mind. He didn’t even have to look to know.

“Let’s not go to the library today, okay?” Charles asked a week or two before Thanksgiving.

“Sure. Where do you wanna go?” They were in the darkness of the subway station, one of the trains passing, blowing their hair in the wind.

“Not going to tell you. Just come with me.” Erik’s eyebrows were raised, and his eyes were narrowed when Charles took him by the wrist. He led him down the platform with a laugh. Erik felt a grin curl onto lips, and he started laughing when he was pulled into the red train. 

The doors slid closed behind him, and the dull yellow lights flickered. The train bumped and jostled them, tossing Charles into Erik’s chest. Both of them were laughing, and Erik gave up trying to ease him off. Charles grinned and pulled Erik out of the train on its third stop. 

He led him down the platform again, and this time they got ono another train. 

The city started to fade away, and then, finally, they got off the train. They took the stairs, and Erik could smell fresh earth and rain. “Where are you taking me, Charles?” 

“You’ll see.” 

And then they were outside, in a grey world. There were a few trees, and they seemed like they were still so far away from the city. The clouds rumbled overhead, and there was a light mist against Erik’s skin. He was still being pulled along by the wrist, through a narrow side street. 

Charles ordered a car on his phone, and they waited about thirty seconds. The car came rolling up, a shade of grey that made it seem like it had come from the mist itself. The car took them away, and they were still going farther and farther. 

“Charles? How do you expect me to get home?” 

“Didn’t think about it actually. I can give you money for the subway ride back, and this guy can get you to the station.”

The car stopped at the end of a rocky, tree lined drive. 

“Charles… You didn’t tell me you had a mansion. Why do you go to a shitty public school in the city?” 

“It was my choice. My step- my brother goes to a private school.” He sighed and got out the car, walking away from the mansion. Erik was busy staring at it with wide eyes, in shock that the sheer size and grandeur of the place. 

“That’s my room, on the second floor. The one next to the willow tree.” 

Erik nodded as Charles pulled him into the woods. “Are you going to kill me or something?” 

“Nah.”

A light drizzle started to fall through the canopy overhead. Erik shivered and pulled his leather jacket tighter around himself. FInally, they broke through the tree line, standing on a high embankment over a lake. 

“This is beautiful.” 

“It is. I come here a lot, actually. But I want to show you something else.” Charles hummed, pointing as he leaned lazily against his side. 

“Is… is that a car own there? Do you have a thing for making me move cars?” 

“Yes that is a car down there. No I don’t have a thing for making you move cars. It’s been at the bottom of there forever. No idea how it got there. Can you try to move it?” 

Erik stared at him blankly for a while before shrugging. “I can’t. Normally, when I need to do nearly anything, I need the situation, the anger…You know that. You just lectured me about that.” 

“No, you don’t. You just need balance. The few time I’ve seen you use your powers, you were angry and scared. But I think that you can be even stronger if you find a balance between all that and everything else.” 

Erik managed to push away the spread of panic growing in his chest. He focused on Charles, until it went away. This time, it really only took another minute. 

“Just try for me, ok?” Erik did, raising his hands and thinking of all the metal in the car. It was there, and it did respond to him. He could feel it as almost another extension of his body. But it wasn’t enough. He glared at the lake hopelessly. 

Charles headbutted him lightly, softening. “What do you usually think about?”   
“Mein mater. My mother. My mum, when she died.” Erik knew that Charles knew that answer already. The boy could read minds, for god’s sake. He probably knew things that Erik’s didn’t even know about himself. 

Charles bit his lip and sighed. “I’m sorry. May I?” He pointed at Erik’s head.

He nodded, and took a deep breath. At this point, he didn’t care what the telepath saw. If he saw what he had done, if he learned everything, he didn’t care. Let him. Except, Charles didn’t go looking for anything. He was just there, in Erik’s mind. Warm and safe, as usual. 

“Do you trust me?” The telepath projected. 

“You’re in my head. Can’t you find the answer to that yourself?” 

“Just answer the question.” 

“Yes, I do.” Erik felt warmth spread through her body, feeling like he had just woken up. He felt a sort of happy calm, and a feeling that he was just starting to refer to as Charles. He relaxed. Charles left his mind, but the warmth, somehow, remained. 

“Find that. The feeling you have now, with the pain.”

Erik didn’t listen, and immediately went to move the car. It came free easily, moving it onto the embankment on the other side of the lake. It was so easy, and he was able to do it. But it was like running without stretching. As soon as he was done, he felt exhausted and strained.

Charles whooped and laughed, clapping his hands together. He was leaned against Erik, nudging his arm aside so it had to fall awkwardly around his shoulders. “That was brilliant!” Erik laughed until he thought he might actually be crying. Charles smiled and hummed until Erik stopped. 

“I think I’m gonna pass out.”


	7. November

Erik did get home from Charles’s house, but it took twice as long this time. There had to have been an accident on the streets, because the traffic was so slow and so tedious that he thought he was going to start moving the cars himself. 

He could do that now. He could move whatever the hell he wanted. 

There was a faint buzzing in his mind when he crossed the threshold of his apartment. The cuffs Charles wore on his wrists still had that effect on him, perhaps more so now that he knew what they were. 

He sighed, rubbing his eyes. He wanted to sleep. Really, he did. But he knew he couldn’t, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to. 

Something else needed at the back of Erik’s mind. It had been sitting there for a while, heavy and intrusive. He had been thinking about it for a long time, since Halloween. Charles had looked terrible for days after, much longer than any hangover would have lasted. 

He had forgotten about it, or rather never thought about it in the first place. 

Too bad he didn’t have a computer and his phone didn’t get fast enough data. 

Rubbing his eyes, he stood up. He pulled on a sweatshirt, humming softly. Erik grabbed his bag and emptied it of his textbooks, shoving in a notebook and a few pens. He pulled his usual leather jacket on top of his sweatshirt, walking out of his apartment. 

The library was about to close for the night. In fact, it locked its doors and the last employee got in their car just as Erik stepped out of his building’s glass doors. He pulled his hood over his head, starting to walk as he planned out his next move. 

The subway ran almost all night, but would probably stop before he was done. He wanted to be able to get home fast, and the subway would definitely prove to be less than that. So he walked, until a motorcycle caught his eye. 

It was parked on the curb, not even locked up. How hard could it be?

It turned out to be a lot harder than Erik had expected. He spent all of two minutes staring at the dashboard, realizing that this was not going to work. 

The library was closed, silent, nothing, empty. The doors were no problem, Erik strode in with all the confidence of the victorious king returning from war. Security camera simply crumpled in on themselves. And the alarm never even had a chance to go off. 

He hadn’t expected any of it to work. He walked on a computer and switched it on. The light from the monitor practically blinded him, and he was still blinking spots out of his eyes. 

He could have done this with his phone, but he didn’t want any of his searches to be traced back to him. Besides, with this, Charles would read his mind and probably see it as nothing more than a dream. If he used his phone, there was more concrete evidence. At least with a library computer he was anonymous. 

That, and he needed to raid the library’s books. There were some things he just couldn’t check out with the telepath right by his side. 

The spots cleared from his eyes, and he opened three tabs. “Kurt Marko” A quick search earned him the most results, with “Xavier Corporation,” and “Books on genetic mutation” trailing just behind. He started with the books, and found four of the ten most recommended in the library reference section. 

Glancing around again, he googled the best books on teenage psychology. He got those too, finding only two of the top five. He shoved them in his bag, closing the tab.

Searching for the Xavier Corporation was a dead end. He didn’t find anything he didn’t already know. Erik had already known that the company worked with technology and engineering, but he found nothing to point him in the right direction. 

He ended up staring at the dull grey background of the company’s homepage, but little else. At the bottom was a few links. He tapped all of them, finding the same short paragraphs and no information. All he got were slogans about the future of the human race and a page trying to convince him to get an internship. 

He figured he would apply. Maybe he would get it and be able to find more information from the inside.

“Fuck it.” 

He filled out the application and submitted, figuring there wasn’t a point in the not trying that. 

The tab was closed and then the blue links about Kurt Marko blared into the blackness of the library. He really should have turned the lights on, but that would probably be noticed by anyone on the streets. A stray light in the window could always be a ghost. 

The links were such a smattering of information, Erik ended up having ten tabs open at once just so he could read every article that popped up. 

There were articles on the death of friend Brian Xavier, the death of Kurt Marko’s wife. He ended up needing to take out his notebook and take notes. 

Then, on the fifth page of search results, he found what he was really looking for. 

Kurt Marko suspect in the death of Brian Xavier.

Abuse Allegations surface on X-Corp’s co-founder. 

Marko remarried widow. 

Widowed Sharon Xavier does not allow Marko to adopt her son. 

He clicked all of them, thinking that he had struck oil. Instead, a lot of them turned out to be dimestore tabloids. He read the more legitimate seeming ones.

He didn’t find much more than he already knew; Brian Xavier had been killed in a lab accident, and that was all it was, an accident. 

Erik found that Marko had remarried Brian’s widow the following year. There was a picture of two boys, standing by both their parents. 

The blonde one was probably Charles’s stepbrother. And, standing there, smiling like he knew what the photographer was thinking, was Charles, around seven or eight years old. 

The link about Sharon’s adoption refusal was a dead end. It was laced with pop ups, and after three seconds, Erik ended up on a website for cheap Viagra. He cursed and closed the tab, hoping that wouldn’t leave a lasting trace on the computer. 

Finally, he ended up on the article about abuse allegations. It was barely a stub, and a few years old. Erik hummed a little as he read. The paragraph stated that Marko was under suspicion of child abuse and neglect. There was information about a tip being called in by a family friend. 

Underneath, in jaunty italics, was a statement that Marko had been cleared of all charges and was no longer under suspicion. The family friend had been sorely mistaken. He closed the tab, and shutdown the computer.. He blinked, accustomed to the darkness of the library. 

He wiped the keyboard with his sweatshirt, spots in his eyes. There had been a break in, but there was no evidence to point to a Polish teenager. 

He packed his things up, tossing the contents of his wallet onto the circulation desk. He didn’t plan on returning his stolen books, but he may as well leave a pathetic consolation payment. He left, rocketing along the streets in his stolen motorcycle. 

Erik found himself liking the bike, and was a little depressed when he ditched it behind a dumpster.

He didn’t have any idea what time it was, and stumbled into his apartment and falling asleep on the couch. 

“Y’know, you would probably fly if you wanted to.” Charles said with a smirk. Erik rolled his eyes. 

“I was barely able to lift a car yesterday, and now you want me to fly?” 

“I do actually. If you fly my everywhere we could rule the galaxy as Erik and Charles,” the telepath grinned, his voice dropping into a faux bass. 

The first morning bell rang. They went to physics class, solving equations that seemed all at once too hard and too easy. Erik finished a second or two after Charles slammed his books closed. They sighed in unintentional unison, making Charles grin. 

The bell rang and Erk stood up, tossing his bag over his shoulder. 

“Did you know that the library is closed for another week?” 

Erik pretended to be surprised, pushing the events of the break in from his mind. He focused on this moment and this moment alone, smiling softly and focusing only on the telepath’s eyes. “No.”

“Yeah. Apparently someone broke in. Nothing was stolen or anything. There was money tossed on the counter though.”

“Uh. Weird.”

“Yeah. that means no place to study this week.”

Erik was trying not to think about the fact that this was his fault. It also occurred to him that he probably wasn’t going to pass this week, since he was finding himself unable to do basic arithmetic without the telepath nearby. He hadn’t expected this many consequences. 

“Oh,” Erik thought that sounded stupider than he thought, “I guess I’ll die then.”

Charles rolled his eyes. “There are other places. LIke the diner. Totally the diner. I really just want to eat food from the dinner.”

“Please not the diner. Logan and Magda are killing me.” Erik smiled, unable to stop the memory of bussing a table while Magda pestered him about Charles. Were they a couple? Could they be a couple? And Logan had seemed disinterested, adding in a deadpan voice that they should be. Strangely enough, Logan’s sink handle turned, spraying him with water. 

“We really don’t have anywhere else to go.”

Erik sighed, because Charles was right as usual. “There’s always the school library.”

“That place sucks.”

The crowded hallway was starting to dissipate, leaving two of them standing almost alone in the corridor. The hall proctors glared at them, not so subtly glancing at their watches, trying to get them to hurry up and go to class. 

Charles’s frown deepened, and finally he spoke slowly. 

“We could always study at my place.”

Erik sighed. He pushed the articles he read earlier out of his mind. There was no reason to believe they were all true, and besides he wasn’t supposed to be thinking about it.

“My parents would be okay with it, don’t worry about it.”

The second, the final bell rang. If they spoke for another moment, they would be late for class. If they spoke for a minute more, they would be late for class. They parted ways for the moment, Charles to whatever smart person class he went to next. 

Erik went to English, taking his usual seat in the back. Hank sat next to him, and Alex was slouching two rows ahead. Hank had given up on hounding him about the Halloween incident, and that suited them both just fine. 

Erik didn’t remember falling asleep. 

“Mr. Lehnsherr?”

“Hmmm?” He probably looked like he was on drugs. His hair flopped into his eyes, and he yawned. 

“What are you going to be doing for your personal essay?”

“I don’t know.”

The teacher pursed her lips. “Let me know when you figure it out, then.” 

Erik must have slept longer than he thought, because all of ten minutes later the bell rang. He sighed and slouched. Hank passed him a rubric. Erik read it, and groaned inwardly. He had to write a personal essay about an event in his life that left a lasting mark on him. It wasn’t like he didn’t have a plethora of traumas. He had plenty of those. 

The car crunched. He had been in the backseat, too young to sit in the front. He had been lucky. It seemed all the metal pieces in the car went around him, and somehow the young boy had been saved from whiplash. His father wasn’t so lucky.

The teenager was in a daze, his mother’s body heavy in death. It was on top of him, and he couldn’t find the strength to push her off. People were screaming around him, calling for police and medics. He was deaf for the moment, the shots still ringing in his ears. He had been lucky again. 

The coin wouldn’t move off the table no matter what he did, and he was so hungry. And then the man spoke, and the coin moved, and it felt like everything was moving. And then the world was still and silent. 

FInally, there was Charles. Charles, holding his mind together with his own. Charles, smiling and whooping and laughing when a car was raised out of the lake. 

“Mr. McCoy, would you kindly escort Mr. Lehnsherr to the sickroom? Summers, bring him some water, I think he is coming to.”

“I’m fine.”

“You fainted.”

“Did I? I’m fine.” 

Erik stayed stubbornly in his seat, glaring at the floor. Why did he have to faint? People were whispering, wondering if he was high. He knew that even the teacher was thinking it. When asked if he was sure, he nodded slowly, blinking the dark spots from his eyes. 

He sighed and looked back at his rubric. He got out his phone and texted Charles. 

“Do you have a computer at home? I have to write an essay.”

“Yeah. We can go tonight after school.”

Erik’s eyes were wide when they pulled up to the mansion. He still found it hard to believe that anyone actually lived there, let alone the teenager who would fall onto him every time the subway bumped and jostled. 

Charles led them through a side door, glancing around like this wasn’t actually his house. And maybe it wasn’t really. Maybe this was just the place he happened to live. They stood in a small mudroom, and Charles glanced around. 

“Follow me.”

“You think I’d really go off on my own?” 

Even still, Erik started to think about metal. The house was full of it. He had no idea why he felt he must be on his guard, but it seemed the right thing to do, an outreach of some long buried instinct. He hummed and followed Charles. 

The house was brightly lit, and much too old to simply be an imitation mansion. The stairs creaked as he walked up them, and the carpet was overly plush, and overall there was a sort of oppressive silence. It hummed in his ears, and pushed in at his skull. 

Charles opened a door into a bedroom that seemed as big as Erik’s apartment. In spite of this, it seemed cramped, strewn with books and papers and old jumpers and shoes. The silence was gone here, and Erik felt his ears pop. He grinned and restrained himself from jumping onto the bed. Charles grinned and pointed at the desk. 

“My laptop is there. I’m gonna do my work for math.”

“What math are you even in?” 

“AP Calculus BC.”

“I don’t want to know what that is.” 

Erik opened the laptop, and switched to a guest user. He signed into his school email, brought up the word processor, and tried to think of a traumatic event. He glared, the cursor blinking back at him. 

He didn’t know how long he stared at the cursor, because Charles was asleep on the bed when he finished. His Calculus book was on the floor, ad there was a slim paperback on his chest. The sun was long gone, and Erik swore he couldn’t feel his fingers. He reread the essay, checking for any spelling mistakes. 

Everything he had written had been a lie. But it would have to work. He couldn’t exactly go around proclaiming he was a mutant, could he? So he lied, but stuck as close to the truth that no one could question its authenticity. 

“Did you finish your English work?” CHarles said, his voice thick with just waking up. 

“To a degree.”

“Let me read it?” 

“Uhm… sure.” 

Charles stood up, his legs shaking. He was wearing a sweater, and the sleeves were pinned up so his forearms were showing. The metal cuffs had no shine, and practically taunted Erik. He winced, and glared at them as Charles leaned over his shoulder to read the screen. There were light shadows of bruises over the edges of the cuffs. Erik willed himself to not rip them apart. 

“You wrote about your mum?” 

“Yeah. Figured I may as well.”

Charles was silent as he scrolled through the words. It took him maybe a minute or two total, and Erik was looking away. He didn’t want to see Charles’s reaction, and he sure as hell didn’t want to read his own writing for the third time. 

Charles stopped reading and sat back on the bed. 

“You’re a really good writer.” 

“No, but thanks.” 

“This is all a lie right?” 

“Of course it is.” 

They ate in Charles’s room, the boy bringing up two plates from the kitchen. He did it calmly, without even thinking. It led Erik to believe that the boy spent more time in this room than not. 

“Yeah. Do you want the chicken or steak?” 

“I mean… I’ll take the steak.” 

The didn’t talk, too busy scarfing down food to really get any words in. 

“Try to talk to me.” Charles’s voice was always surprising, especially when it came from the inside of his mind. 

Erik shrugged, shaking his head.

“Just try. It’d be nice to be able to talk and not actually have to.” Erik gave him a pointed look. How the hell was he supposed to speak? 

“Just… I don’t know. Throw words at me.” 

“This is stupid.” He did what he thought he was supposed to. Really, he just imagined his own voice saying the words, and hoped that would be good enough. 

“I’m not even surprised those were your first words.” 

Charles left his head for a moment, taking their plates. He had a small grin, and walked out of the room. Erik sat there with a fin. He had no idea what he was doing, so he simply sat there in silence. His mind still felt like there was a residual remainder of Charles. 

Charles came back minutes later, looking pale. His sweater sleeves were pinned back down, covering the cuffs. “Uhm… maybe you should go?” 

Erik started to protest, until he felt Charles in his head. 

“Please go.” 

“But-” 

“Please.” 

So he did, feeling terrible about it. He walked home in the dark, relying on muscle memory to get him out. Charles was still in his head, a warm, perfect feeling. 

“Is everything okay?” 

“It's fine. Just get home.”

Erik still felt Charles inside his mind, hours later when he was trying to sleep. He was unable to sleep for more than a few hours, feeling once again like there was something he was missing. He tried talking to Charles, but never got any reply. He had more luck talking to his crappy coffee table. 

He closed his eyes and simply stared at the blank blackness of his eyelids. He sighed, and felt his heartbeat began to slow into something almost perfect. 

As he drifted off, he imagined he was back in the mansion. He was wandering around, the stairs creaking and there was that oppressive silence. In his dream, he was wearing heavy cuffs around his wrists. He felt weak, like he had been running for miles. He tried climbing the stairs, trying to find Charles’s room. 

He counted the doors and ended up in what must have been the room next to it, except it had no place in a posh mansion. There were metal examination tables, with IV apparetusses enct to them and he was running again, trying to get as far away as possible. 

He threw open a door and was in Charles’s room. Charles was lying on the bed, his eyes open and glassy. Tears were dripping down his face, and he was completely still. Erik sat next to him, shaking him. 

“Are you okay? Charles, are you ok?’ 

CHarles didn't respond, laying there limply. Erik was panicking, shaking the teen because what was he supposed to do? His limbs felt heavy. 

He ended up lying there beside the crying boy, and the door slid open slowly. A silhouette stood there, and Erik throws up his hands. Metal should have been flying across the room, and he would have been protected. 

“They’re suppressors, they won’t work. They block your power.” 

Charles sat up and was clawing at the cuffs on Erik’s wrist. “You have to get them off. You have to move.” 

The silhouette was coming closer, close enough Erik could touch it. He reached out, his fingers brushing something that felt almost silky. 

“Hello, Mr. Lehnsherr-” 

And he was screaming, his eyes opening, the warm feeling in his mind gone because there was nothing beyond his eyes. He was nothing more than pure panic, adrenaline pumping as he tried to remember where he was. 

Erik was panting when he was finally aware that he was not in immediate danger. He had no idea what any of that was, or if any of that meant anything. It was possible it was just a dream, but really, what were the odds of that. 

He stretched, and fumbled for his phone or watch, anything to tell him that it was an acceptable time to be awake. It was barely past one in the morning, which barely made sense. But he sighed, and tried to fall back asleep. 

He fell asleep, the cycle continuing. Somehow, he would have the same dream over and over, and each time he would wake up. Eventually he couldn’t take it anymore, and stayed awake. It was exhausting, and when the sun finally rose, he grinned and showered and was ready to leave before anything else. 

Charles looked terrible, and that was all Erik really took notice of that morning. Under the blue eyes there were deep shadows, his eyes sunken and dull. Erik frowned. 

“Are you good?” 

“I’m fine.” 

“You sure?” 

Charles nodded and Erik gave it up. Charles sat behind him, and Erik did his best to pay attention. He was not at his best either, but he knew he would be able to function. He was too worried about Charles to really listen to every word the physics teacher was saying. 

Halfway through the class, Erik looked behind him and saw the telepath fast asleep. He frowned deeper, and lightly rested his fingers against the teen’s temple. There was no trace of fever, in fact the telepath’s skin was icy.

“It’s my fault.” 

Erik heard Charles from the end of a tunnel. It was in his head, and he was confused as to whether that was intentional or not. “What is?” Erik didn’t get an answer so much as a set of images. Charles’s cuffs figured prominently. 

They were broken, split and mangled. Charles was being fitted with new ones, but that was all Erik saw. The boy hadn’t been allowed to sleep through the night, the fitting had taken so long. The images were fuzzy, like they were being viewed through an old camera or projector.

Erik was relieved of the images, and he glanced at the boy. He blinked, and Charles was completely still. He was asleep, perfectly still save for the rise and fall of his chest. Erik’s head felt like it was on fire. He turned around, and went back to his class work. He had no idea if the boy had intended to show him that. 

And, in the back of his mind, he was running up the stairs to Charles’s mansion, running with heavy limbs, limbs that wouldn’t move and why was he thinking of that? Charles was not doing this. Erik knew what Charles’s telepathy felt like. This was his own mind, somehow. 

“Are you doing this?” 

Charles didn’t respond, staying asleep. 

“It wasn’t my fault.” 

Charles’s voice was coming from the end of the tunnel again. Erik didn’t know what to do or what to say, so he stayed quiet. He worked until the bell rang. Every now and then he would look back to check on Charles, but the boy stayed asleep. 

For some reason that vulnerability scared Erik. He felt like they would be attacked at any moment, he was on edge, he was tense, he was cagey. He realized that he was ready to fight, if anything gave him the provocation. 

He reached out with his mutation and felt the cuffs. They were once again too tight. He willed them to stretch, and he wondered just how much of a suppressant they were. He wondered what it would feel like to wear them. 

Charles didn’t stir when the bell rang, so that left Erik to gently shake him awake. 

“Mm. Did I fall asleep?” 

“You’ve been in a coma for a year, Mr. Xavier. Do you remember who you are?”

“Shut up.” The day continued, each of them going about their separate lives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for the comments!


	8. December

Erik was the master at pretending not to listen to people. In fact, to all passerby, he was slumped over the table. Faking sleep was something that he was particularly good at. Charles wasn’t there, and he didn’t know where he was. 

“So… you like Charles?” Erik tensed. Hank wasn’t talking to him, he was talking to someone else.

“Hank! What if he shows up?” Moira.

“Nah. He’s in class arguing with the math teacher.” Hank again. 

“Oh.”

“Well? Do you?” Hank, Erik reflected, really had a habit of getting into other people’s business. 

“Yeah, he’s sweet. And I really think it could happen.” 

“Maybe. I don’t really know him as well. Raven? You’ve known him forever. What do you think?”

“I dunno. I say go for it. It’s not like he’ll be a jerk if he isn’t, y’know, interested.”

“I know. But what about him?” Him was Erik. He could tell by the way they all seemed to shift their weight. He could practically hear the nervous glances. Erik stayed in his faux sleep, but started to listen even more intently. 

“I don’t think so. I mean, Erik, yes. Charles? Maybe. Halloween… well… there was alcohol, how do we know that counts? Hank has said some strange comments about boys. That doesn’t mean he’s gay.” That had to be Alex. No one else would dare bring up Halloween. 

“This isn’t about me.”

“Right, right. Go for it Moira. And if he says no, remember that you can totally get another one.” 

“Hank!”

“It’s true!”

There was the noise of Raven’s fist hitting Hank’s side. Hank laughed and hit her back, just as hard. You always had to punch Raven hard or she would slap you. 

“Alright. I think I’ll do it.”

He thought that this was a strange, and more than a little unfair development. He wondered if this was the universe trying to convince him to just stop trying. He hummed a little, a noise no one would hear unless they were trying. He slowed his breathing and actually didn sleep, just because. 

However, he did not dream. He only allowed himself to relax for a minute, let his body be calm. All the while he thought about this new development. He didn’t want to hate Moira. They had always gotten along okay before. He also didn’t see the logic in trying to hate her either. He could just repress that annoying twinge of jealousy. 

As long as he wasn’t going to do anything about these feelings, what happened next was none of his business. Except for their conversations. Those were fair game. 

“Anyway.” There was a minute of silence. 

“Hank you can’t say anyway and then not have anything to follow it up with.”

“I was hoping someone else had something to say.”

“I’m gonna go. I have some work to do in physics.” 

“I’ll come with you.” And that left Hank alone with Erik.

“Wake up. It's obvious you're faking.” Was it really?

Erik stayed asleep until he was nudged with a pen. “Fine.” He got up off the table and stretched, popping his arms and back. 

“Spying, really?” 

“I wasn’t spying. Not really. I was trying to sleep and happened to overhear a few things.” Erik grinned, and Hank scooted a little further away. 

“Whatever man. Just don’t do anything to sabotage her.”

“Why would I do that”

“Because you clearly fancy Charles.” Hank still had bits of blue left over in his hair. Erik stared obdurately at the blue pieces. How was it that Charles could possibly be sick right now and no one seemed to notice except Erik? He found it funny, how the two mutants were in this strange set of circumstances and the others knew nothing of it. 

“Interesting. How do I know you don’t fancy him and you’re trying to throw me off?”

“I-uh… no. Just don’t do anything, okay?”

“I can’t imagine doing anything of the sort.”

“Good.” 

Erik laid back down over the table. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I rather need to sleep.”

Erik had been in the school library working on math, unable to go to Charles for help because the boy was missing in action. It had just begun to make sense; the numbers stopped making him want to commit a large scale murder. The letters and numbers started to mix in a way that made just enough sense that he could avoid the homicide charges. 

Charles sat in front of him, and Erik forgot everything. 

Later he would be considering throwing his textbook out the window because he simply didn’t understand any of it. But right now, right at this second, he was perfectly okay with forgetting how basic math worked. 

“Hey Erik. Would you mind…. Uhm going outside, to the courtyard. I have something to tell you but I don’t think the library is the best place.” This was true, as the librarian was already giving them the glare of silence. 

Erik nodded and walked down the back door into the courtyard, the other boy close behind him. They stood in awkward silence before Charles broke out in a soft, almost innocent sort of laugh. He raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms, a smirk finding its way on his face in spite of himself. 

“So…” Erik trailed off awkwardly.

“Moira asked me out,” Charles said between sweet bursts of laughter. With that, the taller teen made his plan. He would leave tonight, move back to Poland and possibly become a hermit. The other boy was still laughing, and Erik didn’t find it funny at all. In fact he had to make a conscious effort to not grind his teeth together. 

“The problem is though, I don’t really like her in that way at all. You see, the thing is… well… I’m not straight. I’m gay I mean.” It finally sunk in why Charles was laughing, and Erik couldn’t help but join in. 

“You’re gay…. And she asked you?” Well. Erik wasn’t going to be a hermit any time in the near future. His eyes scanned over Charles, wondering if he remembered Halloween at all.

“Yeah. So I figured that I may as well use this as an opportunity to come out to all of you.” Erik couldn’t help it. He started laughing, and couldn't stop. The mutant grinned and stared at Charles, in away that he knew made him look like he’s lost his mind. 

“Yeah okay. But what happened? Between you and Moira, I mean.” 

“Well.. it was one of those things. We were sitting kinda close, and she was like, ‘Go on a date with me?’ and I just kinda stuttered out that I was gay. She got kinda mad, but I’m pretty sure she’s just embarrassed. Everything is fine.” Charles spoke softly, smiling at Erik with wide blue eyes. 

“Well then. I’m totally okay with all this. And… uhm…” Erik wanted to admit that he was like Charles. He wanted to admit that he was just the same, except he really had no idea how to say that at all. And, a cynical part of his mind realized that saying that would probably be no harder than admitting to being a mutant. 

“And I need to do my math homework before I forget how to do basic algebra.” 

Charles seemed to brighten, if possible, even more. “I can help you with that.” Erik nodded, taking the lead into the library. started to work, humming together, the numbers starting to make sense with every word Charlie said. Eventually the librarian forced them to leave. The sun was out, and light snow was starting to fall. 

“So…” Erik began. The words died in his throat. “So…” He tried again, but the rest of thi sentence wouldn’t come. 

“Need help?” CHarles said, tapping his temple. 

“No I’m getting there. Stay out of my head right now. It’ll just make things worse.” Erik managed to articulate this perfectly then went back to being unable to string together a thought. “So…” 

“When did I figure out the whole gay thing?” 

“I told you not to go inside my head.” 

“It was a lucky guess.” “

Sure,” Erik said, stretching the word out so it dripped with sarcasm. 

“Oh, well, I guess it was when I made out with you on Halloween.” 

“Oh. Wait. You remember that?”

“Yeah… no. I’m a telepath, remember? You were thinking about it a lot, and with a certain amount of detail.” 

Erik groaned, “Oh shit.” 

“Yeah. You weren’t talking about it, so I didn’t bring it up.”

Erik was still groaning, capping off his groan with a sigh and running a hand through his hair. “Uh. Well. I think I’ll go home? Before it snows more?” 

Charles nodded and hummed. “I have to head to your side of town anyway. Take the subway?”

Erik nodded, and hummed as they started the walk to the station. First train, second train, up an escalator, up a staircase and they were out of the station. The streets were relatively empty, and the snow swirled in weak winds. Erik started humming as they walked the streets. Charles smiled, swaying a little like he was a snowflake in the wind. 

“What song is that?”

“Dunno. I think I heard it earlier, and now its in my head.” 

“It’s nice.” 

They stood there for a moment, looking at each other for what felt like was probably too long. They started walking, not quite in the direction of Erik’s apartment. 

“Where did you need to go?” 

“Oh, nowhere important. I have plenty of time. I can walk you home.” 

“Sure, I guess.” 

They started off for the apartment. The wind picked up, tossing both their hair in the wind. 

“Wait, why would you feel the need to walk me” 

“Uhm. Dunno, I just want to. It’s cold out, make sure you get home without getting frostbite.”

Erik wasn’t a telepath. He couldn’t read minds, but he knew that was a definitely lie. “I’m possibly one of the most dangerous people on the planet.” 

“Yeah. Can I just walk you home? I’m freaking out a little here. And I can hear you and it's so, so calming.” 

“Oh. Well.” Erik shrugged and sighed. They walked home, seeming so short and yet seemed to long. Erik finally ended up in front of the glass doors of his apartment building. 

“I guess I’ll go then.” They had talked about plenty during the walk, but Erik’s voice still sounds awkward, like it hadn’t been used in some time. Charles grinned, adn placed his fingers on his temple. ERik felt the usual warm feeling of Charles in his head, perfectly clear. 

“???” 

Charles smiled, and simply stayed quiet. 

“What are you doing? Erik asked out loud. Charles shrugged.

“D’you want to go get food?”

“Right now?”

“No, like this weekend or something.” 

“What?” 

“For god’s sake Erik, I’m asking you on a date.”

“Oh. Oh-” 

Charles laughed, staying just enough in Erik’s head that he knew he was still there. “You don’t have to say words. That's why I'm here. Just think about it.” 

Erik wondered what his thoughts must have been like to Charles. They barely made sense to him, they must have been incoherent gibberish to an outsider. Incoherent jumbles of happiness, and a sort of finality. If yes was an emotion, then he felt that too 

Charlie smiled. “I was hoping you would say that, because I rejected Moira for ya.” 

“Wha-” 

“Yeah man. Maybe you should go inside now- Are you shaking a lamp post?” 

Erik stopped making the lamp post rattle, not even knowing he was doing it. “Not anymore. I’m gonna go home. But sure, by the way. If my thoughts weren’t clear enough for you.” 

Charles grinned lightly, “Brilliant. We’ll figure out the details later then?” 

Erik nodded and walked through the glass doors, grinning like an idiot the entire way. There was a woman on the stairwell with him, and she looked more than a little concerned. He walked into his apartment, tossing his bag in the corner, flopping down on the couch. He was still grinning staring at the blank screen of his phone. Should he text Charles? Was he being stupid? Eventually he realized the answer was yes to both. 

“Soo… ideas?” Erik finally sent. He wondered if he could just jump out a window, because he totally wanted to. 

Erik didn’t know how it happened, but somehow he had a date with the one and only Charles Xavier. He still couldn't believe it when they were sitting beside each other in a cheap but relatively nice restaurant. He was made even more shocked when Charles took his hand and smiled. 

“So, like, what did you think of that whole thing about Gatsby and Nick being gay?” 

Erik grinned, “I thought it was hilarious. I never thought an English teacher would say any of that.”

“Yeah. The best part was the powerpoint.” 

Charles laughed. They continued to talk about everything and nothing. 

“Do you think there is something between Hank and Alex?” 

“Charles, how the hell would I know? You can read minds.” 

“I can really only read yours.” 

“Hmph.” 

Maybe he believed it a little bit. Charles laughed and leaned against his shoulder. There was plenty of time for them to do that now. They could do that now. 

And then they were in the darkness of a movie theater, losing themselves in popcorn and actors.They were almost but not quite touching the entire damn time, and it would have driven Erik mad. 

And then he was smiling as the telepath led him out of the darkness of the theater. They Went outside, where the wind was icy and the sky glowed orange with an oncoming storm. Charles shivered, his nose and ears flushed pink as they wandered the streets aimlessly. 

They walked into a small sweet shop. It was so warm in there, and Erik hummed and squeezed Charles’s hand. The telepath was still shivering, in spite of being under five different sweaters. 

Erik peeled off one of his jackets, humming as he wrapped it around Charles’s shoulders. The telepath gave him a grin and stooped over a glass cabinet. 

“Do you want anything?” 

Erik looked over his shoulder, “No.” 

“Two mint fudges, two hot chocolates,” he glanced at Erik, “And walnut fudge.”

“How did you know?” 

“I can read your mind, remember?” 

Erik laughed as their order was passed over the counter to them. Charles paid, and sat down at a booth in the corner. Erik smiled and sipped the hot chocolate, lightly flavored with cinnamon. Charles unwrapped the chocolates and grinned as he broke off a piece. 

“Cheers,” He said with a hum. He popped the piece in his mouth and then yawned, leaning on Erik’s shoulder.

“We can always go home you know,” Erik offered. Charles smiled lazily. “I don’t even know where my home is.” Erik frowned and loosely knit their fingers together.

They did go home, but at that point it was snowing and the roads were getting ever so slightly dangerous. Erik had offered up his bedroom, since he already slept on the couch most of the time. Charles declined, insisting he could make it home fine. 

And then they were gone, miles apart. In spite of that, Erik checked his phone, replying to every text that Charles sent him as soon as the notification came up. 

“You do realize its two in the morning right?”

"I should go to sleep now."


	9. December

Erik went through the last two weeks of school with a vengeance. He had exams, because the new term was just around the corner. He got through it, with Charles cheering him on the whole way. And then, came a perfect two weeks off, away from work and teenage responsibility and the future. 

He was tired of it after about a week. He realized suddenly that he really didn’t like Christmas. He had never had reason to celebrate it, and he really didn’t want to. He also didn’t have enough faith anymore to try to keep up Hanukkah or Shabbat. So he really spent the week with Charles, who wasn’t much a fan of the holidays either. 

And then, late on a day when Erik woke up at noon, he got the text from the telepath. 

“Come to my house, please? I know you don’t like Christmas but I got you a thing.” 

“I hate you but fine.”

“Don’t go through the front door. Come to my window.”

“You’re insane.” 

Erik couldn't believe the situation he was in. Not only was he outside in the rain again, but he was out in the rain in a tree. He was carefully inching along a branch onto a ledge on the rooftop. 

He took a deep breath and jumped, landing on all fours and holding onto the metal shingles. He heard the distinct sound of the shingles shifting, threatening to fall and send him to the earth. He willed the slats to stay in place, breathing heavily. It took concentration, having to climb and hold the roof together. 

He knew that one way or another, he would fall, and this whole thing would be for nothing. So, he sighed and thought about magnetism. It was no small feat, changing gravity just enough so that he could walk up the rooftop to a window. The window was covered, dull blue light just making it through the curtains. 

Erik hummed and tapped the panes softly. The curtains seemed to shiver, and Charles peered out at him. Erik grinned and raised a hand, using metal in the window clasp to raise it. 

"Can I come in? It's fucking freezing out here," He said with a grin. 

Charles nodded and stepped out of the way, his eyes wide. Erik clambered onto the floor, sopping wet. 

"I knew I'd have you wet up in my room at some point," Charles teased, sitting beside the other mutant on the floor. Erik grinned and carded his fingers through his wet hair. 

"Did you actually climb the shingles?" 

"There's metal in the shingles, and I've been practicing with gravity." He hummed like magnetic polarity was a normal thing to be under one's influence. 

"Why didn't you fly then?" 

Erik frowned and sighed. "It didn't even occur to me that flying was an option." He shook out his hair and sat beside Charles on the bed.

Charles was wearing a white button up shirt and suit vest, his sleeves pinned up to the forearms. “Shouldn’t you be with your family? Its Christmas Eve.” Charles shook his head, and reached under the bed. He pulled out a bundle of fabric. 

“I didn’t wrap it, and its stupid. But I bought it as a joke.” 

Erik unfolded the bundle and raised an eyebrow. It was a plain black hoodie. Embroidered onto the left side of the chest was a horseshoe magnet, with little rays coming off it. It was stupid, really, something that no one would really wear. Charles was holding back a laugh, probably already having read Erik’s thoughts. 

After a moment, he pulled the hoodie on. “This is the literal stupidest thing you could have gotten me. Also, fuck. I didn’t get you anything. Was I supposed to? Was this a thing we organized and I wasn’t paying attention?” 

Charles shook his head. “No, this was all me. I saw while I was out and thought it would be a dumb joke. So of course I got it for you.” Erik smiled and sighed. 

“I still feel bad for not getting you anything.”

“I want nothing.”

Charles rubbed his wrists when he said the word want. Erik pretended not to notice. “Really? I have to get you something. It's… the social contract.”

“No.”

“There’s gotta be something.”

“Hmmm…” Charles had a smile that had more than a little suggestion. “No, nothing.” Erik sighed, looking around. Maybe there was disposable metal, he could make something for Charles. He looked around, and then the suppressors caught his eye. He hated those things, and he figured that Charles hated them too. 

He wasn’t sure he had an idea. But suddenly he was remembering his dreams, remembering the faint bruises that had been there. He thought of how Charles usually wore long sleeves,and rubbed them self consciously.

Erik looked at Charles carefully and then smiled. He laid back on Charles's bed beside him. He yawned, and then couldn't hold back his question anymore. "What are the cuffs really for? I don't believe they are meant to help you." 

Charles gasped and then sighed, sitting up. He looked down at Erik, who was still lying there with expectant eyes. He stretched and then pulled off his sweater, tossing it onto Erik's chest. In spite of himself, he laughed and held the sweater almost tenderly.

He rolled up his sleeves, flexing his wrists. The metal cuffs shined there, looking even darker than Erik had remembered them being only a second ago. He knew that they had to be restraints of some kind, never imagining that they would look so wrong. 

"They.... they suppress my powers. My stepfather invented them." Erik saw red and felt like he was going to start yelling or tearing the house from the ground. Without meaning to, all the metal in the telepath's room began to shake and lift off where they had been before. It was nothing he hadn’t already considered, but it was worse to hear it in words. 

They were mutant suppressors, and if they could restrain Charles, they could restrain Erik. They were doing this to Charles, to the telepath. And he wondered how long it had been like that, before he could hear Erik. He could barely even remember a time without metal humming constantly. 

"Erik..." Charles pleaded, grabbing Erik's hand in his own. The metal was lowered back into its place, the teenager shuddering softly.

Erik made strange little sputtering noises, out of incredulity. "What the hell?" He finally choked out, looking at Charles's hands and wrists. 

"Get them off me and I can show you," Charles mumbled, not really meaning it. Erik did what he said, holding onto the metal shell and willing it to be ripped apart. Charles gasped and flexed his wrists. 

Erik looked at the fragments of the suppressors and tore them apart. It didn't matter that they couldn't be used anymore. He didn't want them to exist at all. 

Charles closed his eyes and let the thoughts of the world to flood into his mind. It was almost overwhelming how comforting it was to feel again. It was like having a blindfold removed, and being able to see everything for the first time in a long time. Then, tentatively, he lifted a hand to Erik's temple, cupping his head. He began to allow Erik to see his memories, showing him the need for suppressors. 

Erik standing by a young Charles. The Charles here was about twelve and on the floor. He was sitting there, tense and looking ill. Erik looked around and understood why. There was a man there, a young boy, and a woman standing in front of him. Charles was looking at his family in what Erik perceived to be either fear or confusion. 

His brother was looming over him with a thin grin that could have been cut by a knife. 

His stepfather was looking at him, and his stepbrother slowly. "What did you do to Cain?" He spat harshly. Charles immediately shook his head and tried to explain himself. 

"He was hitting me. He isn't telling you the truth, sir." 

How old was Charles here? Twelve? He was smaller than he should have been, Erik noticed. Smaller and yet somehow already languishing some control over his powers. Erik could tell he had powers now. There was something in the way he would wince when one of them would speak or move. The teenager watched, knowing that this was a memory and anything he did wouldn't work. 

Cain was yelling over him, "He made me fall down the stairs! He could have killed me, you know." The stepfather slapped Cain, silencing him. The young telepath looked up at him with a closed, guarded expression. His mother stood there sipping a drink with deliberate disinterest. 

Charles flinched when the stepfather moved closer, yanking the boy to his feet by the collar of his shirt. 

"What did you do to your brother?" The telepath slapped at the hands, and Erik heard a small voice muse in everyone's heads. 

He's not my brother. 

The people in the memory all seemed to hear it, and the man gasped, tightening his hold on the boy. 

"How did you do that?" He said, glaring down at Charles, who looked back at him and whispered: 

"Stop hurting me." 

The stepfather slapped at the boys face. He dropped the telepath, staring at him as if to kick, to hit, to hurt. In all their minds they heard that voice again, loud and clear and commanding. "Stop hurting me." 

It was loud, and there was a great deal of pain in addition to the words. The telepath wasn't able to control other people for long periods yet. But simple commands, ones for a split second, seemed to work. 

His mother dropped her drink, and his stepfather and brother stepped several feet away from him. It only lasts a moment, because soon their voices were louder than his. There were shouts and more pain, not unlike a headache. 

The memory shifted, and he was seeing Charles alone in his bedroom. His stepfather had gone to the labs. He had no idea how he knew that, but at this point he was too mesmerized to care. 

Kurt was working on something for Charles. the boy knew it wasn't good. Erik felt the room shift again, and he was standing beside young Charles.

The boy was in a locked metal room, and he was being deprived of being able to hear other people. It knocked Charles off balance. Erik was able to feel the words that were associated with memory. Needles. Experiment. Time. Slow. The boy in the memory had been crying recently, and there was a fresh-looking bruise under his eye and scrapes on his hands. 

The memory seemed to fall away, and there was nothing except a feeling of pain. Both of them felt it, the modern Charles and Erik. Pain and sadness and anger. And then Erik was back, sitting beside Charles, with the telepath's hand just barely cupping his head. Erik felt something, maybe tears, drip off his face. Charles gently wiped them off. 

"It's okay Erik," He mumbled, lips bleeding a little. The telepath had bitten them to the point that he didn't even feel the pain of it. Erik shook his head and carefully pulled Charle's hand away from his head. He sighed and then glanced at the teen. 

"What will happen to you now that the suppressors are gone?" Erik asked, thinking only of the father from the memory. 

"Dunno. I can... I can try to stop them. I'm not as weak as I was my memories." 

Erik nodded and sighed, thinking of his own time as a lab experiment. 

Charles tore at his broken lips. "May I see?" He asked, placing his hand back on Erik's cheek.

Erik let him see, the flash of a shiny coin, the sharp slaps, the dull ache of kicks to the stomach, and hunger. There was nothing distinct about them; They were only distorted images and feelings. He was unsure of how to make his memories as vivid and sharp as Charles's. Erik forced himself to stop thinking about Shaw, mostly so Charles would not have to see how it ended. 

He swallowed and willed his thoughts to be blank, dull grey. He was able to feel the warm, almost comforting presence of the telepath in his mind. 

"Can we get out of here?" He projected. Charles sent the mental equivalent of a nod, and they were out. Charles was still holding onto Erik's face, the latter raising a hand to rest on the telepath. They sat there with their hands touching, for just a moment. Erik let himself fall back onto the bed, Charles laying beside him with considerably less grace. 

The telepath hummed and met Erik's eyes. They lay like that for god knows how long, simply looking at each other. "What are the odds of being mutant, having a terrible childhood, and on top of it all, being whatever we are?" Erik finally asked with a grin. 

Charles let out a short laugh, followed by a hum. "I think that the odds of all of those are relatively low, depending on what quantifies low. In all totality, all those probably influence each other in some way or another..." Charles trailed off. 

Erik laughed and suddenly noticed how close they were. His head felt like it was on fire, with the amount of effort he was using to keep his mind blank. He tried not to think about the blue eyes, or the red lips, or the fact that Charles was right there and oh god, he was thinking about all of that. 

The telepath heard him and then grinned. Erik tried to look away and then heard Charles's voice in his head. It was soft, but it was Charles giving him the invitation to do just what he liked. And so, one of them leaned in, and their lips touched for a brief moment. It was sweet, with no real thoughts or motives behind it.

They simply kissed, their lips touching and the fingers lacing together. One of them pulled away, grinning. "Allow me to revise my previous statement. What are the odds of being born a mutant, having a terrible childhood, and being right here, next to you?" Erik said, the beginning of a laugh in his voice. 

Charles grinned and laid against the other boys, "Much, much higher than you would believe, Lehnsherr." One of them hummed, and they laid there. Erik hoped they could lay like this forever and never, ever have to leave. 

And yet, Charles sat bold upright. "Erik love, please go into the closet. He's coming." 

Charles’s step brother walked in just as the mutant made it to his hiding place in the closet. Words were exchanged between the boys, most of them made by Cain. There was an air of a threat to several of them, mentions of the weekend were made as what seemed to be ultimatums.

Charles would reply in clipped, soft words. His stepbrother left and then the room was perfectly and painfully quiet. Erik made to open the door, and Charles opened it at the same time. Charles slid into the closet, leaning lightly against the other teen. Charles grinned and sighed into his chest. "Both of us hiding in a closet right now seems oddly fitting."

“You are the biggest dork I know.” 

“Shut up. You think it's funny.”

Erik laughed and wrapped an arm around Charles’s waist. Charles leaned against him and hummed softly. 

“Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas. Even if I feel bad for not getting you anything.”

“You did.”

“I did?”

“I’m free now, aren’t I?”

“Yeah, but you got me a hoodie.”


	10. January

There was a time when Erik wasn’t constantly grinning and holding Charles’s hand. Luckily, that time seem so far away, and things for the moment seemed perfect. Sometimes it seemed like there was nothing but Charles, there was nothing except the telepath. 

Their fingers were laced together, their legs touching. Erik’s head was on Charles’s shoulder, thy were humming softly together. They sat in the diner, eating more diner food while Logan grumbled in the background. 

Charles’s phone buzzed. Charles let go of Erik’s hand and reached into his hoodie, checking his texts. “Wanna go to Hank’s New Years party?” Charles asked. Erik groaned, remembering the last party.

“It’ll be fine. We’re together this time. If we get drunk and make out then its no big deal.”

“But isn’t it though?” 

“You’re being overdramatic.”

“We’re not really make out-y people. It’d still be weird.” Erik wondered if he was blushing. Charles grinned and leaned against him. The telepath laughed quietly and then shrugged. 

“I guess that’s true. But I still think you’re being overdramatic.”

“You’d know.”

It was freezing on New Year’s Eve, and Erk didn’t plan on getting too drunk this go round. Neither did Charles, either. So, when Charles showed up to give him a ride to Hank’s place, they were both quite calmer than last time. 

It was also later, and there were fewer people. Sean was visiting his family, and no one really knew where Angel was. It started late, Charles and Erik actually grabbing a quick dinner beforehand. 

They ended up in Hank;s living room, lightly drinking, snacking, Chalres actually having to stop Erik from dozing off around eleven. Alex (because it always was Alex) suggested that they all grab someone to kiss once midnight came. Hank frowned but agreed.

“But like, who and who?” Raven asked, “There’ll be a remainder. There's an odd number of us, I think.” 

“Okay fine. Do it if you want. I won’t make it mandatory. I, ma cherie, will be ready,” Alex said with a grin and an even worse French accent.

Erik yawned and glanced at Charles who grinned and raised his eyebrows. “Ready?” He heard in his head. Erik projected the mental equivalent of a shrug. Charles grinned. Erik didn’t know where the next hour went, because he was busy nursing a beer and talking to the telepath. 

But, inevitably, it came down to the last minute.

Thirty seconds went by. Alex was grinning and leaning closer to Hank. Hank was suddenly overly interested in the houseplant, because he refused to look directly at Alex. Raven was grinning at both of them, whispering to Moira who in turn whispered Emma. 

Then fifteen, and Erik was hyper aware of Charles leaning against his shoulder. Someone started chanting the remaining numbers. 

“Ten.” Did Charles scoot closer? 

“Nine.” He did. 

“Eight.” He had to have, right? 

“Seven.” Charles was facing him. 

“Six.” Was that his heartbeat or something else?

“Five.” How is it possible for eyes to be so blue? 

“Four.” Charles.

“Three.” This felt like it was a mistake. Everyone would see. 

“Two.” It had to be a mistake. 

“One.” 

Charles.

Their lips met, pressing together for longer than was probably needed, but was definitely wanted. Charles pulled away first, leaving Erik grinning like an idiot. 

Someone, probably Alex cheered. Erik didn’t care, because his grin was too wide and he was laughing. Hank was clapping slowly, shooting a sidelong glance at Alex. Moira was smiling in a tired sort of way. 

Erik didn’t actually know what was happening, and he was certain his head was on fire. 

“Erik calm down,” Charles said with a grin. 

People knocked their drinks together, toasting the bright new year. There was laughter and there was someone asking about Hank and Alex. There was denial from both, and then Alex grinned and told the truth. Hank blushed and ended up looking ready to die. 

“Happy New Year,” Charles said softly, his head on Erik’s shoulder. Erik turned just enough to smile at him, “Happy New Year, Charles.” Erik hummed and brushed his lips against his forehead. Charles grinned and laced their fingers together. 

He counted out maybe a minute and the telepath was asleep. Erik drifted off a little while later. He woke up first and stared at Charles, choosing to let him sleep.

They were laying on the couch, legs and arms tangled together, Charles’s head resting on his chest. And Erik started, watching with a lazy sort of smile. Sunlight filtered in through a crack in the curtains, making an almost X across Charles’s eyes. 

Charles woke up when Erik tried to extricate his arm to reach for his phone. He ended up elbowing the teen in the face. 

“You would make a terrible prince,” Charles pointed out as he rubbed the bridge of his nose. He was grinning all the same, even if he looked pained. 

“Fuck off I would be a great prince.”

slipped out of the house, careful not to wake the other teenagers. There was no proof that there was anything incriminating from the night before, and that suited the pair of them just fine. 

It was easily past noon when they got breakfast at a mock French cafe. They had their fingers linked together, but really didn’t speak. They communicated via glances and the occasional bout of telepathy. 

Even then, they stayed silent. 

Erik was left at home after he fell asleep on Charles’s shoulder. He clambered out of the apartment, yawning and feeling like he was too tired and a little too hungover to be alive. 

“Let me know if you… need me okay?”

“Okay.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow then?”

“If I’m not dead.”

And they did see each other, every day until winter break ended. It snowed hard the night they were due to return. They spent most of the night speculating on whether or not it would snow. It snowed hard, looking like they might just get another day. 

But, they ended up standing in the parking lot of the school anyway. Erik felt exhausted, but Charles looked like he had never felt better. The telepath had looked even better than before, ever since Erik had “set him free.” 

His eyes seemed bluer, his lips redder. He somehow seemed to smile more and smile wider. Maybe it was Erik’s imagination. But he was certain that something had changed. Or, conversely, it all seemed heightened because he was allowed to notice these sort of things. 

They walked through the doors for the second semester of junior year. They picked up their schedules, and immediately compared notes with each other. Erik still ahd physics with everyone, and his schedule stayed the same except for math. He didn’t have it, and he all but cheered when he found out. Not having math meant he had study hall, which was heaven unto itself. 

“I think there is a God, and he is starting to stop hating me.” Erik said, grinning at his schedule, grinning at Charles, grinning way more than he probably should have been. He hummed and relaxed. That was one less class he had to worry about. The telepath squeezed his hand lightly. 

Charles peered over his shoulder and grinned. “That’s great.” 

Erik looked at the slip of paper in the telepath’s hands. “Not bad. Are you sure you can handle six honors classes?” 

“Honestly no.” 

Erik nodded and hummed as they walked into first period physics. They went through the day, and the world was easy. They were walking out the back of the school, Erik humming softly. 

Charles was rubbing his shoulder “I can’t fucking wait until Cain goes back to school. He’s still around. I might actually just get him to forget I exist.”

“Are you sure you’re going to be okay?” 

“I’ll be fine.” 

Erik sighed, “Library?” 

“Sure.” 

“Or, do you wanna get food?” 

“Food is good.” 

Charles grinned and they got on the station heading downtown. 

“We’re not gonna exploit my employee discount and eat at the diner right?” 

“No I was really just thinking something cheap and cliche.” 

“Okay.” They ended up in an overcrowded boxcar cafe, eating French Fries and heaping piles of chocolate cake. Their hands were laced together over the table top. Erik found that whenever he was close enough to Charles, he wanted to hold him. And so they did, fingers linked constantly. 

The place was crowded, and people went in and out as they please. The bell above the door would ring and it would seem like ten people came in. There was every type of person. 

One of the crowds walked in and Charles tensed, squeezing Erik’s hand too tightly. He sighed and then let go. 

“What is it?”

“Too many people. I thought I heard something.”

“What?”

“I thought I heard someone….”

“Should we go?” Erik was grabbing his hand, and his wallet so they could make their flight if they needed. 

“It’ll be fine.”

“Okay.”

Eventually they finished, paid, and left. 

“Walk you home?” 

“Sure.” 

Erik hummed and wrapped his arm around Charles’s shoulders. They wandered, smiling and talking idly as they took the subway over to the apartment building. 

“Do you feel weird? Like we’re being followed?” Erik asked, glancing behind him to check the empty, cold streets. 

Charles shrugged, reaching out with his mind to check. “We’re not.” 

“Okay.” 

They eventually stood in front of the glass doors. Erik smiled and leaned down a little to quickly peck the telepath on the lips. Charles grinned and grabbed him by the collar to make it last a half a second longer. Erik pulled away, feeling any of the cold from the January air disappear. 

“See you tomorrow.”

“Yeah.”

Erik grinned and opened the glass door, “You sure you want to go home?” 

“Are you suggesting I stay with you?”

“Yes?”

Charles slept on the bed, a bed Erik had nearly forgotten that he had. He slept on the couch. That’s all they did was sleep and talk simply be close to each other. Erik woke up on the couch, and he grinned like an idiot when he heard Charles rummaging in his kitchen. 

“You smoke? And the fact you eat all this food is more than a little disturbing.”

“Yes, I smoked every now and then. More when I’m bored and angry and freaking out. Like last August. And I don’t pay for it, so I buy a lot and eat a lot.”

“Shit we have to go to school.”

And they did, Charles wearing one of Erik’s hoodies as a shirt and the same pants from yesterday. No one noticed, everyone already in a state of burnout at the second half of junior year. 

The day passed, Work got through the week without any help from Charles. They were sitting in the back of Logan’s diner, Erik finishing his shift. Charles was reading, humming and looking half asleep as Erik got him another cup of tea. 

“Are you gonna go home tonight?”

“I think I have to.”

“Oh.” 

Erik finished his shift and ended up Charles’s hand. 

“I’m paranoid, I know. But I swear we’re being followed.”

“We’re not, I would know.”

Erik walked up to the glass doors of his apartment, wrapping his arms around Charles for a minute. 

“Be careful, okay?”

“I will be.”

Charles pulled himself away and looked at Erik with a grin. He turned on his heel and started the walk back to the subway station. 

Charles was out of sight within a few moments, and Erik ended up walking around the block. He was certain that there was someone watching him, or that there was something out of place. He ended up admitting to himself that he must be crazy, and walked up the flights of steps to his apartment. 

The next day came, and everything seemed normal. They made their way through the day with minimal chaos. Erik fell asleep in English, and was shaken awake by Hank. 

“Wake up.”

“I’m awake.”

“I need your number.”

“Why?”

“Group project.”

“Oh. Here, I guess.” Erik keyed it in then texted himself, adding Hank to his list of contacts. That made it three, Hank, Charles, and Caliban. He wasn’t supposed to talk to Caliban, so it was really only two. 

It was much later and they were sitting around the library with their arms around each other and a physics book between them. 

“You should meet my parents.”

Erik gaped at him, open-mouthed, mentally asking if Charles had lost his mind. 

“No, my friend. I’m still quite sane, although I appreciate the concern.” 

He grinned and leaned into the other mutant’s chest. Erik wrapped his arms around him without thinking. 

“I still think you’ve lost it. Are you quite sure you don’t have an ulterior motive? Like…. I dunno, murdering your entire family. I could totally do that for you.” 

Charles hummed and then tilted his head, “I don’t actually have too much of a plan. And no, before you ask, it doesn’t involve murdering my entire family.” 

Erik raised an eyebrow, not believing or perhaps choosing not to believe it. The telepath grinned, shrugging and laughing into the other teen’s chest. 

“Cain saw me and you are walking together. He told my mum, who told Kurt. So now I’m outed. That was a fun two hours, I will admit.” 

Erik hummed and rolled his eyes. He didn’t like the cavalier of the other boy’s tone. Especially because he was angry about Charles being outed to the people in the memories. 

The telepath continued to talk, “Anyway. After the two hours of my life I will never get back, they wanna meet the lucky boy. And by meeting him, I mean convince him I am utterly terrible and not worth being around. They don’t want anyone getting close enough to find out about the pastime of… mutant observing.” 

Erik scoffed and rolled his eyes. As the telepath explained, unconsciously projecting all his bitterness into the words. All the metal in the library was vibrating ominously, a dull rattling coming from the shelves. Charles pressed a hand to Erik’s chest, the other teen blinking slowly. The metal stilled, but he still had a had a furrowed brow and his eyes were clouded. 

“Anyway, I say you show up for dinner Saturday night. And why don’t you insist that you don’t hate me? Seriously, Kurt is going to try to convince you I’m not stable. I’m fine, really.” Charles was biting his lips and shoving his hands into his pockets, looking away. “I am fine.”

Erik rolled his eyes, wondering why the telepath was so calm and not freaking out. “Shut up. I know what to do. And I know that you’re fine,” Erik mumbled. He buried his nose in the other boy’s hair. He breathed in the smell of him, the feel of him. 

“Is murder still an option?”

“Killing them won’t bring some great peace.”

“Yeah, but it’ll get rid of them.”

“Erik.”

“I know.”

Charles grinned and adjusted Erik’s collar. 

“Maybe it can be a backup plan.”

“Or the main plan.”

“Erik I swear to God.”

“I’m joking. Maybe. No, I wasn’t. I’m a little bit serious.”

“Erik please.”


	11. January

Erik was certain that there was a better way to do this. Namely, one that involved grabbing Charles and running far away from his responsibilities. He hummed as he looked himself over in the front camera of his phone. He had borrowed a tie from Hank, and was glaring at himself. 

He ended up with a passable Windsor knot and an unexplainable urge to strangle himself with his tie. He sighed, and glanced at his phone. Two texts, one from Hank and one from Charles.

“Heard you were meeting C’s parentals. Good luck. Also, look over our bit of the English project.”

And from Charles:

“Be ready for him.”

Erik stared at his semi-rumpled shirt and resolved not to hang himself with his own tie. He sighed and tried his best to harden his resolve, and he let out a deep breath as he grabbed his phone and jacket. He hummed as he pulled it on and started to walk to the subway. 

“There’ll be a car waiting for you outside of the subway station. Just get in, I swear you won’t get murdered yet.”

“That is in no way reassuring, I hope you know that.”

“I do.”

And then Erik was sitting in the backseat of a car that was the same color of the clouds. The driver did not speak, which only added to his increasing sense of nervousness. 

The car pulled up to the gate and he all but ejected himself from the car, nodding at the driver and walking slowly down the gravel driveway. Maybe he could hide in the woods, or maybe just call Charles and run far away. 

Instead, he was straightening his tie and walking up to the front door and knocking. Charles answered the door, wearing a plain shirt with a sweater and looking more uncomfortable than Erik. 

“God, be careful,” Charles projected. Erik nodded slightly, and Charles squeezed his hand for a second. 

“I will be,” Erik promised. 

Charles led him into a dining room off the entryway. The mansion was even nicer on the main part, not the side halls that he normally saw when he was here with Charles. It was perfect, everything in its place, covered in imitation art works and small sculptures. 

There was metal everywhere, something that was more than a little bit comforting to Erik. He could fight if he had to. Charles had his telepathy, he could control the metal. Everything would be fine. 

Charles pointed at a chair. Erik sat down, and Charles sat down opposite him. Everything was humming, it felt like there was something boring into his skull. In spite of this, he received reassurance that this would work. That reassurance came from Charles, who was just enough inside his mind that he could feel him there. 

Then the family walked in, and any reassurance Erik had evaporated. 

Kurt was exactly as he had been in the articles Erik read. He had that sort of smile that never really disappeared, but it lacked any of the warmth it should have had. Sharon simply looked absent, like she was present there at the dinner but there was nothing left of her. She was drinking white wine, which didn’t seem to match the food they were eating. And then there was Cain, who was forgettable to Erik. He was the perfect caricature of the spoiled rich child, wearing a jacket with the logo of his school on the chest. 

Erik wanted to get away from them all. They made him feel like he was staring at a photo, but there was nothing that could be distinguished. They felt weirdly blank, or strangely indifferent. It seemed to bore into his skull, putting pressure onto his eyes and making him want to run away. 

“Be careful,” Charles said, and then left his mind. Erik was alone inside his head with that pain. 

“Hello, you must be Erik.”

“Yeah, that’s me.” 

Kurt sat down next to him. Erik looked at the fork in his hand. It fell heavy onto the table, and the man stared at it in a sort of dumb shock. Erik was staring at the fork too, and he felt Charles’s eyes on him. Kurt just laughed and picked it back up, like it had been his fault. The handle was bent. 

Dinner wasn’t terrible. The food as good, prepared by the family’s house staff. Erik was ashamed to admit that he enjoyed it. Idly, in a strange way that was probably brought on by paranoia, he wondered if the food was drugged. He knew it was perfectly within the capacity of the family. It was a very English meal, Sunday stew served a day early. 

There was cordial small talk between them. Charles hardly spoke, but he would glance across the table at Erik. 

And when they met each other’s eyes, he would get the briefest feeling of a hand on his arm, his back, chest, and sometimes he swore he could feel a hand slip into his own. Charles would smile ever so slightly, in a way that was meant to be innocent. It made Erik grin and grit his teeth against the questions his family asked him. 

“Are you from the same school?”

“Yes.” His head ached. He was sighing, the room felt too warm, like there was too much going on. Was Charles frowning? He felt warm, but that could have just been Charles. And he was hungry then before, and he was eating faster. 

“Oh. Couldn’t help but notice you have a slight accent. Where are you from?” 

“I used to live in Poland and Germany.” Why had he said that? Didn’t Caliban tell him not to say those things to anyone? And how obvious was his accent? No one had ever said anything before. 

“Interesting. How do you know Charles?” 

When Erik answered with tutoring, they seemed surprised that Charles was good enough at anything to be a tutor. Erik sat through it and hummed softly as they all made their way to a sitting room. 

He felt happy and at ease, like this was a safe place for him. He felt safe, and stupid and so happy. Too often he would catch himself shooting lazy, wide grins at Charles. They sat in the sitting room for a moment, continuing dull small talk. 

They sat in silence for a moment when Sharon and Kurt shared a look they thought the teenagers couldn’t see. 

“Erik, son, would you mind terribly if you and I talked alone?” Kurt said with a slow, supposed to be good natured grin. Erik wouldn't exactly say no. And that was how the step father and the friend of Charles Xavier ended up in a study together. 

“What did… you want to tell me?” Kurt was standing by the door, turning a lock. Erik glanced at it, but for some reason he felt no fear, no real panic. Erik sunk down into an armchair and looked around the room lazily. 

The study was lit by dim overheads, but there were various lamps and trinkets across desks. Now that they were out of the eyes of the rest of the family, Kurt furrowed his eyebrows. 

Kurt closed the door, not so subtly locking the door. "Nothing in particular. I'm Charles's step-father. I'm expressing concern." His face lost its amicable quality. "How do you know Charles?"

“School. Why did you close the door?”

Kurt sighed. "Is Charles doing okay? He hasn't had any... episodes?"

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I think he’s fine.”

"I'm so glad to hear that. He hasn't had... strange spells? Made you think he was some great superior human?" Kurt was looking out the window, his back to the teen. He hummed and then glanced back, before training his gaze on the cloudy sky. 

Erik sighed and shook his head. “Not at all sir. Can I please go?” This was wrong. The room was hazy, and he felt like he was flying or maybe falling. Maybe his soul was leaving its body, and he was leaving into some great perhaps. 

"Not yet Erik." Kurt paused. "You can speak freely. Has he... done anything to you? Made you feel... controlled or something of the sort? You can tell me the truth, I just want to help him." Kurt stepped closer, peering into his pupils. "It's...He isn’t entirely stable, you know. He’s been known to be manipulative and delusional.” 

“He says he hears other people’s voices in his head. So I just think its best that you leave him for your own safety. I’d hate for an innocent person to get hurt because of him. People have gotten hurt you know." Kurt continued on, and in his blind happiness Erik had no choice but to nod along. Why shouldn’t he believe Kurt? It wasn’t like there was reason for him to distrust him. Charles could have been lying, after all. 

“Don’t listen to him.” The telepath was practically screaming, the voice coming from a long tunnel. Erik looked around, blinking. His soul was pushed back into his body, and everything hurts. 

“You’re drugged I think. Ketamine, maybe. They’re supposed to make you more susceptible to suggestion. The idea is that he’ll give you the idea that I’m insane and you’ll want to run away.” 

Erik nodded to Charles, but Kurt took it as a sign of agreement. The man began to talk faster, suggesting that Charles was actually, genuinely dangerous. Erik felt his mind begin to wake up, and the stupid happiness began to subside. He still felt like he wasn’t in control of himself, and that he was just waking up from a long sleep. 

“So I just think its best that you leave him for your own safety. I’d hate for an innocent person to get hurt because of him.” 

Erik pretended to nod stupidly, but felt the hard edge of anger re enter his mind. He looked at him, and instead he was looking at Sebastian Shaw. He was thirteen years old, and his mother was dead. He had to look in colorless, almost dead looking eyes.

At the same time, the same words echoed inside his head. Innocent….. Your own safety…… innocent person….. Because of him. 

He gritted his teeth and then blinked away the memory. He looked Charles’s stepfather in the eyes. Kurt was looking at him expectantly, like he wanted the mutant teen to agree with him. 

“You’ll leave Charles, won’t you?” 

“I don’t think I will, sir.” Erik forced the words out, falling heavy from his lips. 

Kurt stared at him. "Be careful, Erik. Please. I just don't want anyone to get hurt again... My other son Cain, for example... you, his mother. Watch out, unless you want to become like him.”

He wanted nothing more than to yell, or simply say the obvious thought he had. Now that Charles had spoken to him, now that he was able to think and speak , he found the dull and stupid feeling of the drugs starting to wear off. 

He felt better already, although that may have been because it felt like Charles was right there next to him. He felt the familiar presence of the teen in his mind, anchoring him. The telepath was simply projecting himself, nothing else. He was simply there, and he was solid and constant. 

“In fact, sir. I don’t think that anything you said was true,” He said with what he hoped was a doped-up grin. Kurt looked taken aback and opened his mouth to say more. 

He looked around the room and saw a metal lamp just behind them. He thought about it, all the moving parts and pieces. They all seemed to hum and call out to him, beckoning him. He willed the switch to flick, the circuit to close, and the lamp lit up. The room was awash in the dull glow.

“That was odd, allow me,” Kurt said with a start, turning around to switch it off. At that moment, Erik flicked his hands, reaching out and pushing. The lamp fell over and the bulb shattered. Kurt cursed, and stormed out of the room. 

“Stay here,” He said to Erik. Erik nodded, and sat down on a heavy, warm armchair. A smirk curled onto his face as he thought about the house. 

He knew that there would be a circuit breaker somewhere. He thought about what it would look like, the small box with a metal door with metal wires, metal that was old and would break anyway.

He heard the sound of Charles’s mental laugh, and Charles left him. HIs mind was blank, and he continued to think about the circuit breaker. He knew it would be in the basement, and he imagined the door to the circuit breaker opening, no one to question why. He thought about the wires in the wall, and all the small moving parts. 

It was so much more intricate than the lamp. The lamp had been easy because Erik knew how it worked. He was unsure of what exactly to do, so he simply destroyed. He wanted the metal to not work, not to connect, to be so overloaded that it couldn’t even function anymore. Erik didn’t want to start a fire, so he tried to keep it under control. 

In almost perfect timing, lightning seemed to strike somewhere, somehow. The room lit up in bright, white light. There was a low rumble that followed, and Erik felt a light laugh escape his lips. He felt the circuit seem to give away, and the house was plunged into the eerie grey light. 

The room was still lit, but other parts of the house, he knew, would be pitch black. In fact, he liked to think that he could hear Cain and Kurt curse, Sharon gave a little scream, and Charles start to laugh. 

Kurt would make his way to the cellar, look at the circuit breaker and have no idea who had done it. Because it couldn’t have been anyone. It was as though there was some ghostly monster who had shut the house into darkness. 

Erik stood up and walked to the door, and tried the knob. It was locked, but at this point it was a minor inconvenience. The lock clicked in a way that was too loud to not be satisfying. The mutant strolled into the sitting room, his head tilted. 

His voice was soft when he spoke to Sharon. 

“Is there something wrong? Is the power out?” 

“Yes, I think so. Kurt is having a look at it.” It was obvious that she was surprised to see him lucid. Erik nodded and smiled. 

“Why don’t you go check up on Charles? I think he is in his room,” she said. 

The mutant didn’t respond. He was already on his way, strolling up wooden steps that looked like they should be creaking under his weight. It occurred to him that this house seemed like it belonged in a midnight horror movie. It was artfully old, and seemed to be perfectly in place in every room. 

There was that silence that seemed to radiate from the very depths of the house. He rubbed his temples and walked into Charles’s room. The silence seemed to go away. The telepath was lying on his bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. Erik frowned, wondering if everything was okay. 

“He’s a dick,” he said, not even having to specify who he was talking about. He laid beside him on the bed, sighing and wishing he could disappear into the coverlet.

Charles grinned and laced their fingers. "You're telling me the obvious here. Has he convinced you I'm schizophrenic? Or was it Borderline Personality Disorder? Or has he finally decided to use sociopath?"

Erik buried his head in Charles’s shoulder. “I don’t know enough about any of those to be sure. The general idea was manipulative and unstable.”

"Oh, that's a new approach. Less creative than usual. My mom still thinks I'm schizo, I think," Charles hummed and rested his head against Erik's. "Did you agree?"

“Oh totally,” Erik rolled his eyes. “Because I’m completely innocent like he thinks.”

"Hey, I was just curious," Charles was grinning, like this was obviously the funniest thing imaginable. "It's not innocence, it's more like he's seeing if I'm controlling you. Telepathy, remember?"

“I really, really hate Kurt.” Erik yawned as he spread out on the bed.

"Oh me too, don't worry. I hate him, he hates me, you hate him, He doesn't know you," Charles smiled and laid on his chest. "It's probably mutual."

“You’re moving in with me, got it?” Erik wrapped his arms around Charles’s waist tiredly.

"I'd love to, but, unfortunately, I think I should stay," Charles said, still grinning like everything was just fine.

“No. Charles. What’s going on?”

“Nothing really. I just… I need to stay, okay? My mother is here, and this is my home and I really don’t know what I would do...”  
“That can’t be it.”

“What if it is?”

“It can’t be. You can be optimistic, but you aren’t that naive”

"Well... I want to inherit the company, actually. Right now it manufactures suppressors, but I think if I took it over it could help mutants. You know, find them, help them," Charles said, "What do you think?" He was turned, laying with his back to Erik. His neck was flushed bright red.

Erik grinned widely, hummed and wrapping an arm around Charles’s chest. “I love it. But you’re not even seventeen are you? How are you going to… y’know, last that long?”

"I’m not sure, but I will. There have to be more of us, and I'm going to find them," Charles said simply, "I just have to wait another year or two. Then he'll be gone." 

“I… god, that’s amazing. How many of us do you think there are, really?”

“I hope that there are a lot. And I’m going to find them all, and I’m going to help them.”

“What if the humans… the ones like Kurt and… the one I remember, what if they find them first? What if we’re already too late?”

“I trust that we aren’t.” Charles turned around and was smiling, in a serene, calm sort of way. It probably contrasted sharply with Erik’s elated, crazed grin. He hummed and thought about it. In spite of the outward appearance of serenity, it was obvious that the telepath was determined, and there would be no talking him down. 

“I’ll believe you if you let me come with you to find them.” 

“Of course I will. I’d be stupid not to.”


	12. January

“You know, I think we should run away.”

Erik smiled and glanced at Charles, “I’m all for it. But what about your company?”

“Oh, we won’t run away forever. Let’s just disappear for like a month, long enough to get people to think we’re dead. And then reappear. I think that’d be fun. Run out to the beach, or maybe just somewhere in the city where no one will think we’d be.”

Erik raised an eyebrow. He knew that this wasn’t actually going to happen, but for the moment it seemed like paradise, to run away from the world. 

“Alright. I have some cash on me, this hoodie and a jacket…. A english book, and a pack of gum. I think we’ll last until, max, next week, maybe. What have you got?”

“I have cash and this jacket. That is all I have,” Charles sighed, “So I give us two-to-three weeks.”

“Well… let’s do it. Let’s go.”

Charles smiled and stood up, slinging his bag over his shoulder. “Where are we going to go?”

“Oh, lets just hide out in a motel somewhere on the other side of the city. I don’t think anyone will miss me. And I think that with the telepathy, we can pull it off.”

Erik was already lacing his fingers with Charles’s, humming softly. He looked around and then it seemed that there was a chance they were actually going to disappear for a month. 

“Who says we have to hide in a motel? Let’s just hide out in your apartment, I think that the effect is basically the same, right?” He hummed and then they were walking down the street, onto the subway, onto Erik’s street. 

Charles smiled as Erik opened the glass door into the foyer, and then there was a short laughing spell when they were standing in a grim sort of silence of the elevator. 

“What are we doing?” Charles asked as the doors slid open into the hallway of the floor. 

“Running away, I think.” 

Erik opened the door to his apartment and smiled as he laid on the couch, and Charles, with no where else to sit beside the floor, laid on top of him, grinning wider as his elbows dug into Erik’s ribs. 

“I always imagined that running away would be more terrible.”

Erik reached up, no small feat, considering the fact that Charles was positioned in a way that any movement might toss him off. He managed to wrap an arm around the telepath and smiled then yawned.

“I’m not sure if I’m tired or hungry.”

“Let’s assume both. Can’t we order something to be delivered?”

“Or, we can walk somewhere. There’s a place…”

“Do you not have any food here at all?”

“I mean, I do. But I really don’t know what can be done with it.”

“I’m a terrible cook,” Charles grinned and went into Erik’s head for a moment. “And you aren’t the most picky eater. So I think I can figure something out, even if it just sandwiches.”

They managed to stay in this sort of refuge for another day, and through until the end of the weekend. It seemed perfect, this temporary solace. That was, until, Charles’s phone buzzed. 

Erik was not so stupid as to guess who would be calling them this late on a Sunday. 

“Hello?”

Erik knew, because Charles tensed up and suddenly seemed preoccupied with something in the middle distance. 

“Oh.”

Charles glanced at Erik once. 

“I’m… I’m somewhere safe.”

He was. Erik was holding his hand as they sat together and did their homework, something they had put off the previous day in favor of sleeping and wandering around the city aimlessly. 

“No. I’m not with Erik.”

A lie, that really only confirmed what Erik already knew: Kurt was calling. And Erik was sure that their simple peace was over. 

“Yes sir, I have been.”

Charles looked panicked. Erik didn’t know what to do besides squeeze his hand.

“I- I needed a break.”

Not a lie.

“I’m in that one hotel. Yeah, the Crown. Oh… you mean right now? I’m eating.”

The sun had set an hour ago. Technically, they still had time to be safe. Erik knew for a fact that Charles had gone home much later than that before. 

“Fine, I’ll finish eating and be at the crown.”

Erik had a sinking feeling that this was the end of something else. Technically, the telepath had been missing for five days. It would be easy for anyone to call the police, or for Charles to be taken out of school. He wouldn’t see Charles again, and that would mean he would be all alone and there was no one else like him and it would all be over. Charles wouldn’t be able to talk to him, so he would once again be the only mutant. And after a while he would forget the telepath and it would be as if none of the last few months had ever happened-

Charles hung up the phone. 

“I have to go.”

“I know.”

“Can you take me there?”

“I will.”

“It’ll be alright.”

Charles brushed against his mind comfortingly. He smiled calmly, and it seemed as though there was nothing in the world, and that all Erik’s fears were nothing. The world stopped ending for a second. 

“Will you be alright?” Erik asked as they took the elevator down into the foyer, hands locked together in some sort of death grip. 

“I will be.”

They were standing in the lobby of The Crown Hotel, except not together. Erik couldn’t help but feel a white hot bolt of panic followed by rage as he watched Kurt walked into the hotel. He looked calm and composed under the dim lighting, and smiled at the concierge as they walked out. 

The concierge was Erik. Charles couldn’t think of a better way to hide Erik, so that the man wouldn’t know that they had ran away together. So, the telepath employed his mutation to hide him, to conceal him, or at the very least seem like someone else.

It would have been funny if not for the sudden fear Erik felt as he watched Charles get into a silver car. 

Erik walked home, too afraid for Charles to text him. What if a text would give them away? He had no idea how that was possible, but he was sure that it was true. 

He fell asleep on the couch, something he already knew would be a mistake, since he already seemed to know what Kurt and Charles were doing right then and there, in the dead of night. 

He was right, because the second he passed into dreams he was seeing the world as though he was right there beside him. When the initial panic of being there subsided, he sighed. Was Charles doing this consciously? Or was this his mind reaching out, looking for a safety net or a single thread that could perhaps offer him some safety?

Charles was sitting at his desk, doing something. Erik wasn’t sure that information was important, but he knew that this was supposed to be safe. In spite of this, Charles was tense, and glanced at the door every few seconds. It was close to midnight. They both should have been sleeping. 

The door opened, and in walked Kurt Marko. It occurred to Erik that the man always looked as if he was posing for something, like there was someone watching him from the wings. 

Kurt looked at his stepson through narrowed eyes. "Charles. Show me your wrists. I know... I know you took them off."

Charles looked up in slight panic. He breathed through his nose and closed his eyes. Erik knew he was calming down, hiding the fact that he had been caught off guard when he had been so on guard. "Hm?"

"Don't be stupider than you already have been. Let me see that you are wearing your suppressors and I’ll leave."

"I took them off because my wrists were hurting. That'll all." Charles started reaching for Erik's mind for real. Erik experienced the strangest sensation of being beside Charles, and feeling him inside his mind in that usual warmth. He wondered if this was anything like an out of body experience, then he realized that was probably the situation summed up. 

Kurt tilted his head, "Charles. Why would you do that? You know I'd loosen them for you. But it's impossible for you to take them off, how could you ever do that?"

"I must have figured it out.”

“Charles just run. If you can hear me, run. Get in a cab and come home to me.”

"Come here," Kurt barked. "We're going to the lab. You need them, Charles."

Erik knew that Charles could use his powers. He knew that. So why, then, did it seem as though Charles could not hear him. Why wasn’t the telepath fighting, using Kurt like a puppet. What was happening here?

Why was Charles stepping out the mansion and into the street, getting into a vintage car? Why was Charles sitting there in silence? And why couldn’t Erik open his eyes and do anything to help?

Kurt smiled, "It was the boy, wasn't it. I don't know how, but you controlled him, didn't you? Sit on the table. This shouldn't be long."

“I didn’t control him," Charles blurted through gritted teeth. "Because I don’t control or hurt people I care about."

"You love him." Kurt shook his head, "Sit on the table, arm out. Roll up your sleeves." He was setting up a needle, a tube and vial. "You choice: What first, blood or spinal fluid."

Charles shook his head, holding himself away from Kurt. "I’m not doing it this time," he sat up. 

"You don't have a choice," Kurt replied bluntly. "Charles, it won't hurt all that much. And what's a little pain, really." He reached forward, and grabbed Charles's forearm, rolling up the sleeves. "If you'd prefer, I can always put you under."

Charles shook his head. “I won’t do it. I’ll fight you this time.”

Kurt nodded and then grabbed Charles’s arm, holding it in a vice grip, and plunged a needle into the boy’s upper arm. Erik had no idea what fluid was in the syringe, but he watched Charles crumple, falling onto the metal examination table.

Erik woke up screaming. 

He texted Charles, and fell asleep waiting for a reply to come in. 

By the time the sun rose, he was already dressed. He had his phone in his hand and was fully prepared to rescue the telepath from wherever he was. 

When he crossed the threshold into the school, he grabbed Hank by the shoulder. 

“What? What’s happening, Erik?”

“I’m sick, alright? Anyone asks, I’m sick. Call me at lunch. If I don’t answer, call the police.”

“What’s this about? What did you do?”

“Nothing. Just do it.”

“What the hell have you done?”

Erik thought he heard something snap. His body felt freezing, yet his face felt like it was on fire. 

“Nothing. Just fucking do it.”

Hank’s eyes were wide under his bright blue bangs. “Fine.”

He was moving fast, and there was something a little freeing about running through the streets and catching the subway. There were several flaws in this plan, but he knew that none of those mattered. It wasn’t like anything that went wrong would affect him in anyway. Erik realized, as he hid behind a oak tree in the Xavier garden, this was awfully close to a suicide mission. 

He was climbing, up to Charles’s window. There was metal in the windowsill, and he tossed it open carelessly. 

There was a body in the bed, chest rising and falling slowly. Erik stepped toward, suddenly reminded of approaching a body in a coffin. 

A blonde body, its face arranged in a small smile. Beneath the formal black suit is a wound about the size of Erik’s fist. Metal was still inside the body, microscopic bits and pieces. He could feel them, and his hands shook as a man he only knew as Caliban told him to move along. He had been to two funerals in his life before this one. 

He blinked and looked down at Charles’s closed eyes. 

The coffin was open, while lillies laid to rest on top of a still chest. Erik knew that there was some symbolism in the flowers, but that didn’t matter. He was still reeling, even all these days later, from the fact that he had been the cause of the stillness. 

He looked down as could see a light upon the bed. It was the reflection of light against metal, metal cuffs on the slim wrists of the telepath. They were almost dainty, and Erik was sure that they had to be suppressors. There was something sinister in their placing, like a beacon for him. 

He placed his hand on top of them, feeling nothing. While there was the usual metal hum, there was no stifling feeling of suppressors. They were very simply cuffs. Erik stood there, his mouth falling open. Erik heard footsteps coming up the steps, and he looked around. His heart was racing as he ducked into the closet. 

The bedroom door opened and he heard someone walk in, and the shift of weight as someone sat beside Charles. Erik laid on the ground, trying to squint to see through the gap between the door and the floor. A drawer was opened then slammed shut, there was a tense silence. Whoever it was left, closing the door. 

Erik counted to ten, thirty. Counting to ten was never safe enough. He sighed and stood up, and opened the door. 

“Perfect timing, coming out of the closest,” Charles whispered, sitting up and drinking water. The blankets pooled around his waist, his hair spilling into his eyes. He slipped a translucent yellow pill into his mouth, sipping water. 

“That’s the worst thing I’ve ever heard,” Erik whispered back, sitting beside him on the bed. He leaned over and laced their fingers together. 

“I know about what happened.”

Charles was silent as he took two more pills, and then he shook his head. “I know you saw part of it. But you don’t know all of it.”

“Care to tell me?”

“I will. But can you make me a promise?” Charles’s face was overly sincere, smiling in a small way that looked too sad to be really genuine. 

“Of course.”

“I need to to realize you can’t help me.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’ve done everything you can. But you can’t stop this. Kurt is stronger than you are, at least since you can’t stop him in anyway I can think of. And I can fight him. I’m stronger than you think.

“I’m not playing hero.”

Charles looked at their interlocked fingers, blinked, and then shook his head. 

“You’re right. You’re not. But I know you. You’ll get angry and be ready to fight the world the second I tell the truth.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“Oh, god no. I love it. But I think that if you charged downstairs you’d find yourself doped up and on an examination table.”

“I’m not- I wouldn’t-”

“He knows. Kurt knows you have something to do with it, alright? He either thinks your a mutant or I’ve got you under control.”

“Fine.”

“Last night, you saw the beginning. And it was relatively normal, or at least as normal as being a telepath and regularly poked and prodded at gets. Anyway. He knew I wasn’t wearing the suppressors. I don’t know why or how. But he knew.”

“Alright.”

“And so he puts me out before I can fight him. I was going to fight him. I even knew how. He had a syringe of lidocaine, and I could have gotten him with that, I bet. I wouldn’t have killed him, don’t worry. Wouldn’t even have hit the plunger. Just stabbed and ran.”

Charles was speaking in a monotone, like he was reading directions or was being asked to describe the color grey. 

“I didn’t, of course. He put me out before I had a chance. But when I woke up, it was around three or four in the morning, and god I was ready to run and never really stop, and I was about to.” He smiled and looked at Erik, who was sitting there with clenched fists. 

“He stopped me of course. Said that he knew what I’d done or something. Got wrestled back down onto the slab and had a surprise bone marrow biopsy done. Oh, and there’s these,” He said, holding up the yellow pills, “Suppressant. Weaker, though. Doesn’t mess with my brain waves. I can still hear you.”

Erik couldn’t help it. He was standing, ready to murder Kurt, because Kurt was Shaw and Shaw had killed his mother and he was going to hurt him next. 

“It isn’t Shaw, Erik. It’s just another man. A similar one, but not him.”

Charles didn’t understand. He had no idea what this idea of other men like Shaw seemed to do to Erik, how it seemed to take root inside his very soul and scare him. 

“I don’t understand it.”

“What?”

“We’re… well, I’m almost seventeen. We’re not even real adults yet. But we are doing all this, and it’s just sort of normal, in a way. I mean, it’s terrible but we can’t fucking do anything about it. We just have to survive it. And we can’t do anything!”

Charles pushed himself up, reaching up to hold Erik’s head in his hands. He didn’t need to speak. It was simple, a simple act of comfort that seemed to push Erik over the edge. His shoulders shook in almost sobs, not quite crying but breathing like he was about to die. 

“We’re kids.”

“Yeah.”

“I can’t believe it.”

“What do you mean?”

“We’re not even out of highschool. We should be panicking over finals or tests. And we do panic and learn and all that. But just a while ago your stepdad was trying to convince me you’re insane, and now you’re taking a pill that cuts off a part of your mind.”

“It’s alright, Erik.”

“We’re kids. We’re supposed to-”

“We can’t.”

“We should’ve run away.”

“Where could we have gone, really?”

“Anywhere.”

Erik was slouching, breathing too fast. He was angry and scared and sad all at once. SOmething about this all seems too real and yet like it was a scene out of a movie. At any moment he would have an epiphany and rescue Charles. They would live happily ever after. 

His eyes were screwed shut, like a child hiding in his room at night, so terrified. 

“It’ll be alright. I’ll be alright.”

“I know.”

“Open your eyes.”

Erik opened his eyes and smiled halfheartedly. It was more of a grimace, but he knew that that was all he could muster. Charles laced their fingers together. 

“Everything is shit.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

“No.”

“Then what is?”

“I’m already seventeen.”

“Wait-”

“About two weeks ago.”

“But-”

“I haven’t celebrated my birthday since I was twelve.”

“I still feel bad.”

“Don’t.”

“I agree then. Everything is shit.”


	13. February

“Everything is fine. There is nothing to worry about,” Erik said, somewhat believing it. Hank’s voice was tight on the other line, but there really was nothing to worry about. 

The call ended a few minutes later, and there really was nothing to worry about. Granted, Charles was having to take three yellow pills every few hours and there was no feasible way for Erik to help him. 

Erik turned around and sat on the bed, tossing his phone onto the bedside table, laying halfway on Charles’s legs, the other half his body dangling off the bed. 

“What is the point?”

“Of?”

“The cuffs you’re wearing. They aren’t anything special. They’re just really tight, boring bracelets.” 

“How quaint. I think they’re a test.”

“Of?” It was Erik’s turn to raise his eyebrows and not fully understand what was happening. 

“Well, someone took the original suppressors off, and it wasn’t me. And while Kurt is… stupid, he is able to recognize I got outside help. And, while it was a lovely show of your powers, when you were here the electromagnetism of the house was messed up. It was almost like we had a ghost, except he left just after you.”

“I don’t understand.”

“If you take off the cuffs this time, I think he’ll know I have outside help, and I think it’ll confirm that it’s you.”

“How do you know?”

“I can hear thoughts. We seem to forget this a lot.”

“But he can’t. And can’t you control him?”

Charles, in reply, tossed one of his pills into the air. He caught it in his mouth and washed it down with water, grimacing. 

“These things. I have to take three every three hours. They don’t shut off my powers, but they stop them. I can’t control people, and I can’t go overly deep into your mind. All I can do is hear.”

“Just stop taking the pills then.”

“I wish I could. There’s about thirty pills in here. Three equals one dose. That makes ten doses, every few hours. I could hide the pills under my tongue and spit them out, or dump them out the window. But I’m relatively sure that I’d get found out. I’m bad at hiding things.” Charles was smirking, looking at Erik like there was a secret, something that he had hinted at but not yet said. 

“Are you being watched?”

“To some degree, I think. I don’t think I have a camera on me all the time. But I know I’m being watched somehow. For all I know there's a camera in my hallway and in the room with us right now. My closet is empty, and so is my bathroom. But I’m not positive.”

That made Erik jump. “He could see us right now?”

“If he wanted to. But he’s at the company headquarters, and I know for a fact that he can’t store every waking moment. The storage would have to empty itself regularly, and he’d have to review it daily or something like that, and who has time for that?”

“Stop being cryptic and get to the point.”

“I give you the pills.”

“And? You said we’re being watched.”

“We live in the age of information. One way or another we are always being watched.”

Erik sighed and sat up, and gazed at Charles. Something was different. It was as though something had changed last night. Charles' usually calm eyes were stormy, and though Erik was not a telepath, he had a feeling his mind was a maelstrom of thought. 

Charles was looking at the pills, holding the orange bottle up to the light, and setting it back down. He looked at Erik and tried for a smile, but he never got one. Erik stood up and walked to the window. 

“I can’t- I don’t understand your plan.”

“What part?”

“How does this last? I can protect you, burn your meds and break teh suppressors. We can run away for the weekend and know everything about each other. But when does it stop? When do we stop… I don’t know.”

“Stop having to hide?”

“I guess.”

“I don’t know.”

Erik blinked, hard. He could see Charles standing, getting out of bed, wrapping his arms around him. He sighed and relaxed. 

“People. Other people, they’re involved now. Hank’s worried, and I’m sure that he told the whole group. I’m worried, and I’m sure the fact that I’m going to miss work today will worry Magda, and in turn that will annoy Logan.”

“And, if you're right, then we are not alone.” Erik continued, his voice getting fainter and fainter. 

“It’s your turn to stop being cryptic and get to the point,” Charles teased, but Erik barely heard him over the tumult of his own thoughts. 

“Do we have to? Any of this, do we have to? I meant it. We’re young. I mean, I know we’re almost adults but don’t you understand it? You want to save the world. What if we ran away, like you said? I have a man, one who hid me. We could do it. Find somewhere and start over and forget about all of this.”

Charles winced, “I can’t. You know I can’t. We say this over and over again but it’ll never be true. We never get to run away or anything like that. All we get is this.”

Erik shook his head. They could have this argument every day until the end of time, and he knew that they would never run away together. 

“Can we talk about something else?” Charles finally said, shifting his weight so that Erik carried most of it.

“Sure. Why aren’t you at school?”

“It physically hurts to walk, and I always feel kind of sick after anesthesia and blood loss.”

“You could have lied to me and said that you had the flu.”

“Oh.”

“Can we leave your room? I think I’m just getting claustrophobic. I’ve been here for hours now.”

“Sure.”

There was a tense sort of silence as Charles led the way out of his bedroom. Erik remembered the layout of the mansion, both from his own visits here but also his dreams, which he was now sure were real. 

They ended up sitting in a dark study, in the center of the house. There were no windows, and bookshelves lined the walls. There was a dark fireplace, plush armchairs, and a table between them. Desks and sofas and lamps, combined with the fire that was now very much alight, sharply contrasted the rest of the mansion. 

Charles was stepping away from the fireplace, his hand still at the level of the gas switch. 

“Fancy a game?” He said, pointing at a chess set that sat untouched. Erik shrugged and nodded, and took a seat on the black side. Charles took the seat opposite him. 

“You know, my stepfather must have a decanter of whiskey here somewhere.”

“My god.”

“What?”

“You literally just say the word decanter, and it didn’t sound out of place coming from your mouth.”

Charles laughed and stood, getting two crystal glasses and filing them halfway with the amber liquid. 

“I’m going to get drunk in your parents house.” Erik said, drinking it and wincing at the bitter taste. He shook his head, blinking hard. 

“You could be doing worse things.” Charles' smile was curled at the edges, all the innuendo there but somehow absent in its meaning. 

Erik could do nothing except roll his eyes. There was a terse silence between them. In that silence lingered their argument, something that was easy to reach for but would inevitably hurt both of them. 

“Worse things? Like running away? Or removing all the zippers from his trousers so that way he humiliates himself at his next business meeting?”

Charles laughed. “That’s the exact opposite of what I meant.”

“I know what you meant.” Erik said softly, glancing down at the chess board with a sigh. 

“Embarrassed?”

“Make a chess move. You’re going to win anyway.”

“How do you know.”

“You can read minds.”

“Fine. For every piece of yours that I get to take, you get to…” He trailed off and glanced at Erik, trying to think of something. 

“Hm?”

“You get to do something. I don’t know. Strip chess sounds illegal and anyway there has to be a way to level the playing field. I could always take more suppressant-”

‘“No.”

“I guess we’ll just have to see then. I’ll try to stay out of your head.”

It was about half an hour later when they finished the game and were laying on the floor beside the fireplace. There was a thick hearth rug, and Erik idly wondered if this entire room was made to feel like it had been pulled out of another time. 

Their hands were laced together, loosely. 

Erik lifted their intertwined fingers to his lips and kissed Charles’s knuckles before setting them down. He stared at their fingers, at slender wrists that seemed to strain against the unsightly cuff that adorned it. He reached out, feeling them with his powers. 

He imagined that he could feel Charles’s pulse against them, a metronome, something steady for himself to lean on. He imagined the metal shattering, falling apart and breaking apart and every piece would be so small that nothing would be left for the eye to see. 

He met Charles’s eyes, who was looking at him with a bemused smile. 

“What?”

“What do you want to do for Valentines day?”

“I’ve been in here a while, but it’s still the last of January. And how can you even think about that?”

“I’ve found that thinking too much about the future and my eventual escape either leads me to false hope or into a state of despair.”

“So you think of Valentine’s Day.”

“Of course.”

“YOu’re shameless.”

“I must be.”

Erik laughed softly and pulled his hand away, staring at his hand, silhouetted in front of the fire. “I know that in general, everything is pretty terrible.”

“How astute.”

“Everything is terrible. But… I don’t know where I’m going with this.”

“It’s okay.”

Erik felt the warm feeling of life and warmth flood his mind. He couldn’t help but relax as Charles’s mind sidled against his own, working in a perfect harmony that would always provide some sense of comfort. 

“No.” Charles said, and the warmth was gone. All that was left was the sudden, steely feeling that was his mind and his mind alone. 

Erik sighed and laid back down on the rug, his head resting on Charles's leg. He reached up, his hand searching for Charles’s hand. The world was spinning, his eyes struggling to find something to land on. He eventually settled on the fire, blaming the light and the non existent smoke for the sudden sting in his eyes. 

“Why not?”

“You’ve asked me to run away with you already.”

“And?

“My answer isn’t going to change!” Charles snapped, and Erik flinched. He looked away from the fire and sat up, his arms crossed.

“My answer isn’t going to change with time. I’m going to stay here for the next two years and then I’ll take over the company. I’ll undo everything that he’s ever done and make the world better. I can’t do that if I run away with you.”

“What’s the point then,” Erik said flatly. “What’s the point of me stealing your pills or breaking your suppressors or knowing any of this? What’s the point of letting me know everything I do about Kurt? What’s the point of keeping me around?”

“I don’t know what you're talking about.”

“Why bother fighting any of it at all if you are never going to try for freedom?”

“Because I will get my freedom in the end.”

“You don’t….”

“What?”

Erik shook his head.

“You don’t understand.”

“No, Erik. Tell me.” Erik could feel the words catching in his throat. He felt like Charles already knew the answer. It was yet another one of those inevitable truths. It was something that should remain unspoken. 

“I don’t know.”

“Don’t lie to me.”

“I can’t lie to you.” Erik said, softly. 

Charles looked like he’d been hit. His face was frozen, his eyebrows arched and his mouth half opened. 

“No. No, no no no… Please god, no. You can’t think that. You can’t.”

Erik looked away. 

“I- I’ll fight him. I’ve fought him before. I won’t let it happen.”

Erik didn’t speak.

“I won’t- He can’t. I’ll stop him.”

“How?” Erik said, hollowly.

“Get the suppressors off me- break them and we’ll burn the pills and we’ll run away.”

Erik looked at him and stood up, holding out his hand. He was waiting for him to take it, for their fingers to interlock and this would be the end. It would lead to the end of the regress, a world where they would never worry about Kurt again. 

Charles reached up and then yanked his hand away.

Erik closed his eyes and nodded slowly. He sat back down as the telepath seemed to collapse, falling in on himself like a rag doll. A head found the crook of his neck and he wrapped his arms around him, trying to hold the telepath together as best she could. 

“It’s all right.”

“I’m not going to let him kill me.”

“I know.”

“I’m not going to let him kill me. I can’t die.”

“You’re right,” Erik said, and suddenly he felt some sort of purpose. For better or for worse, a plan began to form in his mind. 

“Don’t.”

“What?”

“Don’t make any plans. I won’t listen to you.”

“Fine,” Erik lied, and thought very hard about not making a plan. He sighed and took Charles’s hand. 

“I love you.” Erik breathed, looking at him with a smile. “I love you,” He said, again, this time for himself. 

It was a simple truth, one that could not be denied, even as Erik fought his own mind. He would not make that mistake, not yet. He smiled and waited for Charles to reply. The silence that followed was longer, yet it must have only been a second. 

It occurred to Erik these might be his last words, that whatever came next would determine what would happen to them. 

“I love you too.”

His fate was sealed. He closed his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The beginning of the end, my friends.

**Author's Note:**

> beta'd by @fandomallthetime24601 on tumblr


End file.
